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JDR. ECKHART’S 

BOYS 


TRAN" SI. ATE D BY 

MARX E. IRELAND 

9 

) 


) > 

> •> > 

* 3 ' 

FROM TUB OBBMAN 
OF 

EMMA SEIFERT 

M 


M 


loot 

U, B. PUBrjISHING HOI7SB 
BAYTON, OHIO 







All Righ\x^iititerved 

W. II. Fu'nk, Publislier 
1901 


>W-w o ^ ^ 


PUBLISHER’S NOTE. 


The hoys of to-day are the men of the future. 
Solomon says: ''Train np a child in the way he 
should go: and ichen he is old he will not depart 
fioni it.” This charming story is intended for 
hoys. Not that it will not prove interesting to 
every reader, hut hccause it embodies that tvhic!(. 
should he engrafted into every hoy's life. ^^Dr. Eek- 
hart's Bo'ijs” are not unreal, hut once lived, and 
moved^ and had a heing. They are examples of 
iihat an influenee grown persons may exert upon 
the youth around them, and the kind, genial, and 
ever youthful-spirited doctor will he equally re- 
mernhered with his hoys, hy every one who reads 
the story. 

This narrative ivas puhlished- in the Children's 
Friend as a serial, and the reception accorded it is 
ample proof that in this more substantial form it 
ivill go out to the ivorld on its mission of teaching 
kindness, cheerfulness, and forbearance. 



DR. ECKHART’S BOYS. 


CHAPTER I. 

Ernest and His Pets. 

One beautiful morning in early spring several 
women and girls had gathered at the public foun- 
tain in the main street of the village of Schonan, 
and were in earnest conversation. 

“Have you seen the new doctor?” asked one of 
the women of her neighbor ; “I saw him yester- 
day.” 

“No; what style of person is he?” 

“A sensible-looking man, with brown eyes and 
hair and moustache, tall and broad, and locks as if 
he would expect people to obey his orders.” 

“He doesn’t look like a doctor,” said another ; 
“he has neither spectacles nor eye-glasses, like all 
the doctors who have lived in Schonan ; but if he 
cures my Lotta, I shall not care.” 

“I wonder if he has a wife and children?” said 
the first speaker. “You ought to know, Eve, you 
helped get the house ready for the new doctor.” ^ 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 

“Yes, he has a wife, and she is a smart, orderly 
woman, and kind. She spoke pleasantly to me, and 
when old Peter, who helped bring in tbe furniture, 
broke a leg of a chair, she only said that accidents 
would happen sometimes, even in the n.ost care- 
ful hands.” 

“Well, they have the prettiest house in the vil- 
lage,” remarked another. “I hear that he gave it 
the name of Rosehill.” 

“Did he build it?” asked a neighbor who had 
come only the day before to Schonan. 

“No, it was built by a man who owned the brick 
works, and just as it was finished he died. The 
brick works went into other hands, and the new 
doctor bought the house. We thought the burger- 
meister’s house was fine, and the parsonage does 
very well, but the doctor’s house casts them both 
in the shade.” 

“Had you no doctor before he came?” 

“Oh, yes, but he got old and gave up practice. 
He lives in a neat house at the other end of the 
village.” 

“How many children has the new doctor?” 

“There are two boys now at home from school, 
and a boy about the age of my Conrad. There is 
a girl whose spine is injured, poor child ! and she is 
very pale and thin; and two more little girls, 
healthy and bright, and of great help to their 
mother. They are all sweet and pleasant, and it 

would be a pleasure to work for them.” 

G 


Di\ Eckharfs Boys 

The women were so interested in talking of the 
new arrivals that they forgot that their buckets 
and pitchers were running over, and the village 
children were sailing bark boats in the drain, or 
sprinkling each other with water. 

“Stop, now, Conrad, you are wetting my new 
dress,” cried Ida, the little daughter of one of the 
neighbors. 

This attracted the attention of Eve, and she 
gave the unruly Conrad a smart slap upon his 
round cheek. 

But this did not curb the boy, for the moment 
Ida turned away he blew a shrill whistle close to 
her ear from a tin toy he had taken from the 
pocket of his jacket. 

Before the mother could inflict punishment for 
this new offense the tall form of a centlpman 
dressed in gray clothes appeared upon the street, 
and all eyes were turned upon him. 

“It is the new doctor,” whispered Eve ; “he is 
going to your house, Frau Hauptman, to see your 
Lotta.” 

The mother hurried to take up her pitcher to fol- 
low, soon caught up with him, and entered not only 
into a full account of the ailment, but told him as 
much as she could, in the limited time, the history 
of the family. She had just touched npcr. the ac- 
count of an accident which had happened the grand- 
father of Lotta when they reached the cottage, and 

the story had to be postponed for another time. 

7 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 


Dr. Eckhart had listened politely and patiently 
to the theme which was such an agreeable sub- 
ject to Frau Hauptman, but was so interested in 
his first patient in Schonan that he did not ask her 
to continue the narrative after they had taken seats 
within. 

He found Lotta lying between pillows upon the 
sofa, and listening with interest to a story which 
her brother John was reading from a book. 

“You read very well, indeed,” said the doctor ; 
“but now, while I talk to Lotta, I should like you 
to go and help my boys, Richard, and Henry, and 
Ernest, to fix up a stall for our pony.” 

“I heard that our old doctor wanted you to take 
his carriage and old horse, but I was sure you 
would not,” said Frau Hauptman, anxious for a 
little gossip. 

“Yes, he kindly offered them at a very low price ; 
but I had my faithful pony, Barry, to take me 
around in winter, and in summer my bicycle serves 
every purpose.” 

Lotta had watched the new doctor closely while 
he conversed, and decided that she liked him ; and 
when he told her that he had a little daugt^ter who 
had been afflicted as she was her heart went out to 
him. She was willing to obey any directions he 
might give, and he left her with new thoughts and 
interest, and conveying much love from her to his 
daughter. 


8 


Dr. Eckharl's Boys 

When he had been to see several of the former 
physician’s patients, he went home, and found his 
boys highly elated with their work of the morning. 
John Hauptman had been a great help, and was 
more than pleased to have the chance to become 
acquainted with the new doctor’s boys. 

The stall for Barry was completed, and a house 
made for Cleo, the St. Bernard dog. She had al- 
ways slept in the hall of the doctor’s hous“ in Ber- 
lin, and did not appear to relish the ‘idea of hav- 
ing to live in the yard in the country. 

“You will get used to it, Cleo, and will like this 
nice green yard to run about in,” said Henry. 

It was very evident that Cleo was not satisfied 
with her country home, while the white rabbits 
delighted in it, and hopped over the fresh, tender 
grass, feeling the freedom which the city could not 
give them. 

While the boys were thus happily employed, the 
daughters of the house were not idle. Adelheid and 
Anna were weeding the fiower-beds in the garden, 
and Helena, the eldest daughter, was setting the 
table in the large and pleasant dining room under 
the direction of Frau Eckhart, who, though tired 
from the exertion of moving, was, as usual, cheer- 
ful and kind. 

“Don’t overtax your strength, Helena,” said her 
father, as he passed through the room on his way 
to the office ; “it is good to take exercise, but not too 

much until you are stronger.” 

9 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 

“No, papa, but mamma said I might put on the 
pepper and salt and the other light things, then 
Thekla will come in and finish setting the table.” 

“That will not hurt you, I think. I have been 
telling little Lotta Hauptman that you were just 
as she is now, and that you are getting well, and 
the child seemed to get new strength from hear- 
ing of it.” 

During the half hour or more they were at din- 
ner they told the experiences of their first day in 
their new home. Richard, who was a tall boy of 
fifteen, related that while hanging the pictures in 
the parlor, an old farmer came in, and, taking a 
cloth from his sore hand, asked him to prescribe 
for it. 

“Oho, the idea of anybody taking you for papa !” 
laughed Ernest. 

“I hope you answered him politely, my son,” 
said Dr. Eckhart. “Remember, we are all stran- 
gers to the people here, and it is quite natural that 
he should think you older than you are.” 

“Yes, he did think so, for when I told him that 
you were out visiting patients, and that your oflBce 
hours are from nine to eleven in the morning, and 
from two to four in the afternoon, he said it was a 
pity that a grown son of a doctor could not do 
something for a sore finger.” 

“I have had several calls, too,” remarked Frau 
Eckhart, “and all told me of their afflictions, and 

seemed to think that I, as a doctor’s wife, should 
10 


Dr. Eckharfs Boys 


know what to do for them. I find that their old 
physician’s wife was frequently consulted, and gave 
out medicine when needed ; but I told them they 
would have to come during ofiice hours and see you, 
for, though willing to help them if I could, I had no 
experience.” 

In a few days the whole house was in order, and 
the family felt at home in it. They had never be- 
fore lived in the country, and every day found new 
objects of interest. The boys especially delighted 
in the change of residence. They took long walks 
about the neighborhood, and when the distance to 
any attractive point was too great for Ernest, he 
and John Hauptman had an enjoyable time in the 
village. 

Some of John’s schoolmates had pets which were 
entirely new to Ernest. One had chickens with 
feathers upon their legs ; another had guinea pigs ; 
another had pigeons ; and another had a tame crow. 
Ernest loved pets, and resolved to have a menage- 
rie of his own. 

Over the wood-house there was a room which he 
thought would be a fine place for his pets. A steep 
ladder led to the door of this room, and when it 
was shut, nothing could get in to harm whatever he 
was fortunate enough to possess. 

To his great delight one of John’s acquaintances 
had a jackdaw which he was willing to exchange 

for a white rabbit, and n proud boy was Ernest 
11 


Dr. EcJdi art's Boys 


when he saw it in the rooni' which John had helped 
him clean with the aid of a couple of old brooms. 

They had carried pine boughs from the neighbor- 
ing woods and placed them in the corners for 
perches ; also, a plate for the food of each pet, and 
bowls for fresh water, and a large pan for a bath- 
tub. 

The jackdaw was named Solomon ; and Ernest 
had been told that jackdaws could be taught to 
speak, and his heart was set upon hearing it say, 
“Good-morning, Ernest,” and other sentences. 

Another schoolmate of John’s was willing to ex- 
change a pet dove for a white rabbit, and a for- 
ester who had been to see the doctor promised him 
a young owl, and the next day when he came again 
to the doctor he brought it. 

Ernest loved all his pets, but he thought it 
great fun to tease them, as he did the animals on 
the place. He had been scratched many times by 
the cat, and Cleo’s sharp teeth had more than once 
been used tcT defend herself from his roughness in 
play, but he would not take warning. 

Even Solomon came in for a share of teasing, 
and one day Ernest offered him a piece of cheese, 
and just as he was about to take it, snatched it 
away. The bird was hungry and disappointed, and 
took its revenge in biting the boy’s finger with its 
strong bill so severely that it bled. Ernest slapped 
him, whereupon the jackdaw flew upon his head 
12 


Dr. EcJcharfs Boys 


and pecked his forehead until the blood ran in a 
stream down his face, and he ran, crying, down the 
ladder and into his father’s oflSce. 

Dr. Eckhart bound up the wounds, telling Er- 
nest that it was a mercy that his eyes were not 
injured, then gave him the warning that if he teased 
any of his pets again, the window should be opened 
and they set at liberty. 

Ernest promised to remember this, and, taking 
a piece of cheese as a flag of truce to the enemy, 
he mounted the ladder to the room, which he called 
the cage. But alas ! in his haste he had left the 
door open ; the jackdaw and dove had escaped, and 
the owl, which he had left sleeping on one of the 
perches had been caught by the cat and almost 
eaten. 

With hot tears, Ernest put the remains of it in 
a little box and buried it, and vowed never to 
tease birds or animals again as long as he lived. 


13 


CHAPTER II. 


The Visit to a Farmhouse. 

Ei-nest Eokhart had, for more than a week, been 
very unruly. His mother ha<l been called to Berlin 
to see a .sick sister, and he was taking advantage 
of her absence by indulging himself in freedom from 
restraint. 

“Richard and Henry do not act as you do when 
mamma is away,” said Adelheid, who was intrusted 
with the care of the house, aided by their faithful 
Thekla, during Frau Eckhart’s absence. 

“What have I done now?” asked Ernest, 
peevishly. 

“You are out every minute of the day that you 
can be out, and are not at all polite and helpful when 
5'ou .are in. You will not even set your own chair 
to the table, and to-day, when I was carrying to 
the kitchen the dishes from the table, you would 
not get up to open the door for me. You leaned 
with your elbows on the table when papa was ask- 
ing the blessing, and your eyes were glancing over 
the table to see what we had for breakfast.” 

“I am no city boy now,” replied Ernest ; “we 
are in the country and I am free to do as I please.” 

“But it should not please you to go out the door 
14 


Dr. Eckharfs' Boys 


whistling when you get up from the table, and 
with your hands in your pockets ; and when a dog 
frightened Anna this morning you laughed at her 
instead of trying to soothe her,” 

“Give me liberty or give me death,” sa'd Ernest, 
quoting from a speech he had heard Henry de- 
claim. 

“But Ernest,” said the gentle-voiced Helena, 
“the freedom and liberty you desire is that of the 
wild animals in the forest ; if you keep on in this 
way, you will be best suited to live in a cave, where, 
bareheaded and barefooted, you could feed on acorns 
and roots.” 

“That would be the very thing I should like ; 
then I should hear no scolding,” and he went out 
of the house, slamming the door after him. 

“I cannot see what the boy means by this con- 
duct,” said Dr. Eckhart, coming in from his office, 
having overheard the conversation. “He will get 
beyond all control if allowed to go on in this way. 
I am to pay another visit to-morrow morning to 
the father of Farmer Muller at Ericshof, and will 
take Ernest with me. There are six or eight chil- 
dren there, and the worst behaved of any that I 
have ever seen. Perhaps a bad example will work 
a change in Ernest better than a good one.” 

“What way do the children act, papa?” asked 
Helena. 

“They are perfectly wild, and seem never to have 

15 


T)r. Eckharfs Boys 


been controlled in any way. The mother is a kind, 
indulgent woman, and the father leaves the man- 
agement of them entirely to her.” 

“It may do good,” said Helena, doubtfully. 

“Why do you think it may not?” asked her fa- 
ther. 

“Because Richard read to Ernest a fable a few 
evenings ago, in which two eagles had a wordy com- 
bat, and ever since hearing it Ernest has been imi- 
tating their bravado way's. Richard thought his 
fable would have an opposite effect, but was dis- 
appointed.” 

“I will make the effort to better him l;y letting 
him see how a set of ill-bred children can act, and 
perhaps they will convince him that it is not agree- 
able to others to be with such people.” 

Ernest was delighted the next morning 'to hear 
that he was to go with his father to Ericshof. He 
hurried through breakfast, and waited impatiently 
outside the door until his father was ready. It 
was not a long distance across the fields and woods 
to the fine farm, “Ericshof,” and the doctor, having 
leisure that morning, decided to walk, instead of go- 
ing a roundabout way in his carriage. 

It was a clear, beautiful morning, every blade of 
grass sparkled with dew, and as they walked along 
the well-trod path, Ernest halted now and then to 
listen to the song of a lark. 

In cheerful conversation father and son went for 


10 


Dr. EchliarVs Boys 

about half a mile through fields, and, nfter passing 
through a strip of woods, they saw the farmer’s 
house to which they were going, 

“x\ll this is Ericshof Farm,” said Dr.'Eckhart, as 
they stood on a hill and looked over a broad ex- 
panse of meadow and woodland, “and lie* r Muller 
is an excellent farmer; see in what perfect order 
the whole place is kept.” 

Ernest had already learned the difference be- 
tween wheat, and barley, and oats ; he admired the 
beautiful shades of green in them, and the new 
corn, and the leaves of the forests and orchards. 
Ernest realized that morning that it was a joy 
merely to breathe the air of that lovely morning. 

“What a large place the farmhouse is !” said 
Ernest. “Herr Muller must have plenty of room ; 
and see, papa, how many small houses are near it!” 

“Yes, the farmhouse is large, but not too large 
for his family. The barns, and granaries, smoke- 
house, poultry-house, and. other outbuildings make 
quite a little village. 

The doctor and his son were met at the farm- 
house door by a tall, broad-shouldered man, whose 
sun-browned face beamed with cheerfulness and 
good humor. He called to his twelve-year-old son 
Jerry to entertain Ernest while he conducted Dr. 
Eckhart to the sick-room of his father. 

Frau Muller gave Ernest cordial welcome, and. 


2 


17 


Dr. Eckharfs Boys 

as she was about to feed the poultry, invited him to 
go with her to the yard. 

“Oh, let me feed them,” cried Jerry, grasping the 
pan of corn roughly from her hand ; “1 can feed 
them as well as you can.” 

“Mother wanted you to feed them before break- 
fast, but you were making a kite, and wouldn’t 
listen,” shouted one of the other boys. 

“Oh, never mind ; he is going to feed them now,” 
said the mother, with an indulgent smile. “Now, 
here is the soft feed for the little chickens and 
ducks ; watch that the others don’t take it from 
them.” 

Ernest had never seen so many chickens, ducks, 
turkeys, guineas, and geese in his life, and when 
the pea-fowls, of which there were quite a number, 
spread out their beautiful tails, he clapped his 
hands in delight. 

Dr. Eckhart prescribed for the sick man, and 
came back to the breakfast-room just as Fiau Mul- 
ler, Ernest, and Jerry, entered by anoiher door. 
Two girls of fourteen and fifteen years were sitting 
by the windows with slips of embroidery-work in 
their hands, and Ernest was surprised that they 
did not rise to welcome his father, bat nodded to 
him, and then whispered to each other and laughed. 

Dr. Eckhart made some pleasant remark, to 
which they did not reply, but nudged each other and 
tittered. 


18 


Dr. Dckkarfs Boys 

Ernest called to mind that his sisters’ manner 
was very different from that of Jerry's sisters, 
when visitors came to^ his father’s house ; but at 
that moment his attention was called trom them by 
hearing the shrill cry of a child. 

Frau Muller hurried to an adjoining room and 
oame back with the two-years-old Mane in her 
arms, who was kicking and screaming with fright 
or anger. 

“There, there, now !” the mother said, soothingly ; 
“here is Dr. Eckhart come to see us ; shake hands 
with him and say ‘good-morning, doctor.’ ’’ 

“No, no !’’ screamed the child. 

“Well, then, if she will not she will not,’’ laughed 
the mother, “but shall have her breakfast” ; and, 
putting the little girl in a high-chair at the table 
from which she and Herr Muller had risen two 
hours before, and the two older girls later, she put 
a tablespoon in her hand, and then proceeded to 
prepare a cup of bread and milk, which was the 
child’s breakfast-fare. Marie pounded upon the 
table, then spying the butter-plate, she drew it 
within reach, and pounded the butter with the 
spoon, while she ate a lump of sugar. 

Two little girls of four and five years appeared at 
the door and gazed in at the visitors. 

“Come and shake hands with the docfor,” said 
the mother, coaxingly. 


19 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 


There was no answer. The children scowled at 
him and scraped the floor with their bare toes. 

“I am hungry,” said one of them, .n a whining 
tone ; “1 want my breakfast.” 

‘‘Well, wait a little, and you shall have some 
nice, hot coffee.” 

‘‘I want it now, this minute,” and the little girl 
began to cry. 

‘‘I must go now.” said the doctor, rising. “I 
find that I need medicine from town, and must go 
there this morning to get it.” 

‘‘I have business in town to-day, doclor,” said 
Herr Muller ; “you can go with me if you will, and 
save time by not having to go home for your horse 
and carriage.” 

“Thank you, I shall be very glad to go with you ; 
and if it will not be any trouble to Frau Muller, I 
should like to leave Ernest here until I come back.” 

“Not any trouble in the world, doctor,” replied 
Frau Muller, heartily ; he can have a fine lime play- 
ing with the boys. Will and Fritz are out in the 
orchard, and Jerry can take Ernest there if he 
cares to go.” 

Ernest was eager to go, and they had reached 
the door, when with great noise and scufiling Will 
and Fritz rushed in to eat the breakfast to which 
they had been called more than hour before, but 
were too much interested in a game of ball to obey. 

Farmer Muller was putting Brownie to the old- 
20 


Dr. Eckharfs Boys 


fashioned carriage, and Dr. Eckhart took a seat to 
wait until it was ready, well satisfied that Ernest 
would see the unruly manner in which the boys 
acted at the table. They ate with their knives, 
and took butter with them from the dish, drank 
their coffee from the saucer with noise, talked with 
their mouths full of food ; they whispered to each 
other, and both reached for the last piece of sau- 
sage on the plate, and had almost a quarrel over 
it. Then when Hannah dropped her spool of em- 
broidery cotton and it rolled under the table, Fritz 
gave it a push with his foot and soiled it, and Han- 
nah was angry that he did not pick it up. 

“If Brownie takes a notion to kick, the old car- 
riage will drop into a hundred pieces,” said Will, 
with the last bite of his bread in his mouth as he 
arose from the table, leaving his knife and fork on 
the table-cloth, and cup, saucer, and spoon scat- 
tered about. 

“Oh, no,” smiled his mother; “your father is 
too good a driver to allow Brownie to do any dam- 
age.” 

“I wish father would get a new carriage,” said 
Hannah, discontentedly. “My teacher, Fraulein 
Langmeyer, said that our old carriage does not agree 
with father’s circumstances.” 

“What does she know about father’s circum- 
stances,” said Will. “I think she had better attend 

to her own affairs instead of meddling with ours.” 

21 


Dr. Eckharl’s Hoys 


“She was not meddling,” cried Hannah, angrily ; 
“and our old carriage is disgraceful. I am ashamed 
to be seen in it.” 

“It is good enough for an ugly girl like you,” re- 
torted Will. “I am better-looking than you are,” 
said Hannah, bursting into tears as she ran from 
the room, the three boys pointing at her and cry- 
ing, “Cry-baby ! cry-baby !” 

“You should not tease your sister,” said the 
mother, serenely ; “it spoils her temper.” 

“I love to tease her, she looks so pretty when she 
cries; this is the way she looks,” and Will made a 
grimace that set all the children wild with mirth. 
They pounded with their fists upon the table until 
the dishes rattled, and knocked knives, forks, and 
spoons together, and Ernest, for the first time in 
his life, saw the freedom for which he had been 
longing. The soiled hands and faces would not 
have been tolerated for a moment at his mother’s 
table, nor the unbrushed hair ; neither did he care 
to eat the bread which they had taken from the 
plate and then thrown back, saying it was cut too 
thick. 

At length the noisy crew had finished breakfast, 
and, as Will passed the high-chair of little Marie, 
he could not resist the temptation to pull it back- 
ward, upon which the child screamed with fright ; 
then, with much tramping over the uncarpeted fioor 

they secured their hats and dashed out the door 
22 


l)i\ Eckhart’s Boys 


just as their father entered to tell Dr. Eckhart 
that the carriage was ready. 

“Our boys are full of life,” said Frau Muller. 
“They like nothing better than teasing each other ; 
oh, well, they will be young but once.” 

“I am going fishing,” said Jerry, the moment they 
got outside the door; “who is going with me?” 

“No, you must not go,” called Frau Muller; 
“your father said that you were not to go to the 
creek again unless he with you. Fritz, run and 
hide the hooks and lines where he will not find 
them.” 

Jerry started to run with all speed to the gran- 
ary to secure them first, but Fritz overtook and held 
him. A wrestling-match ensued, which lasted 
through the yard ; there were some scratches, fol- 
lowed by tears on the part of Jerry, but Fritz was 
victorious, and succeeded in hiding the fishing-tackle, 
and Jerry had to turn his attention to seme other 
amusement. 

“Take Ernest to see the young lambs,” called 
Frau Muller from the porch. 

“Oh, yes, I want to see them,” said Ernest; “I 
never saw a lamb, except in pictures.” 

This amused Jerry so much that he had to throw 
himself upon the grass to laugh ; and it helped him 
to regain his usual cheerful spirits when he saw, 
with surprise, Ernest’s delight in seeing the antics 

of the sheep and lambs. He admired the beautiful 
23 


Dr. Eehhart’s Boys 

cattle in the fields, the glossy horses and fat pigs, 
and said that a farm was such a splendid place. 

“See what I have found, and will keep it !” cried 
Jerry, when his brothers appeared upon the scene, 
after a sharp contention as to where the fishing- 
tackle should be hidden. 

“It is my ball !” exclaimed Will, springing for- 
ward ; “now, you give it right up to me.” 

“You never missed it,” said Jerry, “so don’t need 
it ; the finder is the keeper,” and he held it fast in 
his pocket. 

Will sprang to him and held him, while Fritz 
took the ball from his pocket. 

“Now, you may go,” he said, giving Jerry a push 
I hat almost threw him down; “yes, you may cry as 
inuch as you please, but the ball is mine and I 
mean to keep it.” 

Ernest had never in his home seen his brothers 
and sisters act in this way. He felt that he was 
not in good company, and would have been glad to 
see his father coming to take him home. 

“Let us have a game of ball,” cried Fritz ; “Er- 
ne^st and Will can play, but not Jerry. Boys who 
find balls and want to keep them are not honest, 
and shall not play with honest people.” 

“I would rather play by myself than with a mean 
boy like you,” called Jerry, and, feeling out of hu- 
mor, he looked about for something to annoy. 


24 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 


He saw the three boys commence their game 
on the lawn, then went'to the barn, and, mounting 
a low stone wall, he looked through the window 
at a bullock which was chained in one of the stalls, 
and decided that he had something to tease. 

Stepping off the wall, he filled his cap with peb- 
bles, and threw them one by oue at the poor animal, 
until it became so enraged that it bellowed and 
pawed the ground, and struggled to break its chain. 
The men were all out in the fields, and there was 
no one to protect it, so Jerry pelted it until the 
last pebble was thrown, then jumped off the wall 
and went to watch the game of ball. 

“There comes Jerry,’' said Fritz. “Let us stop 
playing and take Ernest to see Feterkin : he is a 
splendid animal, everybody says.” 

“But I am afraid,” said Ernest. “Is he cross?” 

"Yes, he is fierce, and would toss you up on his 
horns if he got a chance ; but he won’t get a chance, 
he is chained.” 

They went to the barn, and Fritz pushed back 
the bolt of the door which opened out from Pe- 
terkin’s stall. The animal rushed out, his head high 
in the air, and stood for. a moment before the 
frightened boys, bewildered by the suddenness with 
which he had come to the sunlight. Will and 
Fritz darted behind the open door, which barely 
concealed them, but Ernest was too frightened to 


move. 


Dr. Eckliart’s Boys 


“Run, run for your life !” cried Fritz, and Er- 
nest ran for the open gate of a field a short dis- 
tance away. 

The bullock pawed the ground and bellowed, then 
took after the boy, who dared not look back, but 
knew it was gaining upon him. 

Fritz had presence of mind to unchain the stable 
watch-dog. He ran and attacked the bullock, which 
turned and tossed him high in the air. This gave 
Ernest a little more time. He reached the gate 
and tried to shut it, but stumbled and fell, and this 
proved to be his deliverance ; the bullock bounded 
through the gate and forgot his enemies in the joy 
of freedom and the taste of the sweet, tender grass. 

In falling, Ernest struck his head against the 
gate-post, and lay unconscious, while the workmen 
chased the bullock, he taking his freedom so fully 
that an hour passed before he could be captured 
and chained in his stall, the three boys being so in- 
terested in the pursuit of him that they forgot 
their guest. 

“Where is Ernest?” Frau Muller asked, when 
they rushed in to tell her of the adventure. 

“We thought he ran here,” they replied. 

“Oh, where can he be? Do, dear boys, search 
until you find him. Where did you see him last?” 

“He was running from Peterkin ; he fell behind 
the gate, and that was what saved him from being 
tossed in the air.” 

20 


Dr, EcJcJiarfs Boys 

In great anxiety of mind Frau Muller hurried out 
to go to the field, but met the overseer carrying Er- 
nest in his arms. 

The boy was bleeding from a cut upon his fore- 
head, and his lip was much swollen ; but it was a 
great relief to her to know that no bones were 
broken, and she was grateful to God that he had 
been saved from death at the horns of the infuri- 
ated bullock. 

She took him in her arms and kissed him, then, 
laying him upon the sofa, she put cloths wet -in 
cold water upon his forehead, and be soon revived. 

When Dr. Eckhart returned he was \ery grateful 
that his boy had escaped, and thanked P|^u Muller 
for her kindness, and said she had taken the best 
ineans to reduce the swelling. 

Farmer Muller took them home in his carriage, 
and the whole family welcomed Ernest lovingly, 
expressed much sympathy for his hurts, and re- 
joiced that his life had been spared. 

“Frau Muller is good and kind,” he said to Hele- 
na that evening, as he sat by her sofa in the twi- 
light, but I never want to go there again. The boys 
are not like Richard and Henry, and the girls are 
not like you, and Adelheid, and Anna. 1 am glad 
1 saw them.” 

He did not say why he was glad, but his after 
conduct proved that the visit had openea his eyes 
to his own unruly ways. He resolved not to follow 
the example of the boys at Erieshof. 

27 


CHAPTER III. 


Two Academy Boys. 

A year or more before Dr. Eckhart’s family left 
Berlin, Frau Wiesman, the widow of their former 
pastor, went to live near the village of Aithausen 
where there was ain academy, that she might add to 
her small income by taking as boarders a few stu- 
dents. 

Aithausen was only^ a few miles from Schonan, 
and it was decided that Richard and Henry should 
go to the academy and have their home with Frau 
Wiesman, walking to Schonan on Friday evening 
and returning on Monday morning to school. 

They were well contented in the largo, old-time 
dwelling, had a neat and comfortable sleep-ng-room, 
studied their lessons under the shade of the trees 
in the garden, and passed their hours of recreation 
in the woods back of the villalge. 

But what was of greater satisfaction to Dr. and 
Frau Eckhart, their evenings were passed with 
Frau Wiesman, who lost no opportunity to give 
them the benefit of her rich, Christian experience, 
joining hand in hand with their parents in train- 
ing them to be happy, active, useful Christians in 
their youth. 


28 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 


At borne thej’^ were always joyously welcomed, 
and when one or both of them brought a note from 
their teacher saying they were satisfactory pupils, 
the father would call them his good, faithful boys, 
and the mother would kiss them with happy tears 
in her eyes. 

One Friday, when both carried a note of this 
kind. Dr, Eckhart told them of a pleasant sur- 
prise in store for them. 

“What is it, father?” they asked, eagerly. 

“We have a letter from your Uncle Bernhard ; 
he has accepted a call to a church in Meadow Val- 
ley, about ten miles from here, and is going there 
to live,” 

“That is splendid news ; will they come on the 
cars, father?” 

“Yes, and that is where the pleasure for you 
boys will come in. Your uncle wrote that he can 
come as far as Althausen in the cars, and there the 
good people of Meadow Valley will send cairriages 
to take him and his family the rest of the jour- 
ney. We are going to the railway station to see 
them, and will drive to the academy and ask the 
teacher to allow you to go with us.” 

This was joyful news to the boys ; they loved 
their uncle and aunt, and their cousins, Mary and 
INIelanie, and had visited them once at Bernfeld on 
the Rhine. They would never forget the pleasure 
of the visit ; their uncle was such excellent com- 
29 


Vr. Eckharfs Boys 

pany on their walks, aoid all were so cheerful 
and genial that every moment of the time while 
there was heartily enjoyed. 

“But there is something yet more pleasant to 
tell you,” said Frau Eckhart ; “your uncle and 
aunt have sent aii invitation to you to pass your 
next holiday at Meadow Valley, and when we see 
them at Althausen Station, you can tell them you 
will come.” 

The boys were so delighted with this pleasure in 
store for them that they promised to learn all that 
w^as possible between that time and the coming 
holiday. 

The next week the family carriage of Dr. Eck- 
hart stopped at the academy door at Althatisen, 
and two happy boys, with the permission of their 
teachers, stepped in, and were soon at the station. 

The train was just in, and their relatives were 
on the platform waiting for them. It was a joy- 
ful meeting; the Bernfeld relatives were surprised 
to see the improvement in Richard and Henry 
since they had last seen them, while on their part, 
they rejoiced that their uncle was the same — did 
not appear a day older, but was the hanosome, dig- 
nified, yet cheerful friend they had visited, and 
the aunt and cousins kind and cordial as ever. 

“Oh, they were all so sorry to see us come away,” 
said Melanie, tears springing to her eyes as she 
spoke; “they could not do enough to show their 
kindness at parting.” 


30 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 


“We got up so early this morning that it seems 
like three days instead of one. I feel live years 
older than I did before we began to move,” said 
Mary. 

“We got up before daylight for the first time 
in our lives,” continued Melanie, “and you do not 
know how strange it seemed to dress by lamp- 
light.” 

“Was it needed that you should get up so early?” 
asked Henry. 

“Yes, for our neighbors came with wagons to 
take our goods to the station, and we must bid 
them good-by, for we might not see them again. 
And it seemed so strange to us to see them moving 
about with lanterns.” 

“And oh, the things they brought us !” said Mel- 
anie ; “hams, and poultry, and baskets of eggs, 
and so many other good things, and the children 
brought us flowers. We felt that going fjcm Bern- 
field was like the children of Israel going from 
Egypt.” 

“And papa would not ride in the carriage with 
us, but would walk with all his dear people to the 
station for the -last time,” said Mary. “When we 
reached the top of the hill above Bernfeld, the sky 
in the east was getting red, and when we looked 
back upon the village where dear papa and mamma 
had lived for nineteen years, we could not help 
shedding tears.” 


31 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 

“Did it take you long to get to the station?” 
asked Richard. 

“No, it is not far from the parsonage, and we 
were all glad that we got there in time to bid a, 11 
our friends good-by, and papa stood in the midst 
of them and took off his hat, as all the men did, as 
he said, ‘The Lord watch over thee, the Lord bless 
thee and give thee his peace.’ ” 

The older people of the party were engaged in 
as earnest conversation as the younger, and the 
time was all too short for them. Carriages and 
wagons came from Meadow Valley, ano Pastor 
P.eriihard and his family arose immediately to go. 
A cordial invitation was given to all Dr. Eckhart’s 
family to visit the parsonage, and Henry and Rich- 
ard were especially expected to pass their next holi- 
day there. 

“We shall have an examination two days before 
the holiday begins, uncle,” said Richard ; “we wish 
all of you could come to it.” 

“AVe certainly will, if it be possible.” replied 
their uncle, cordially. Then good-bys v/ere said, 
the Eckhart family saw their relatives off to their 
new place, then drove home, leaving Richard and 
Henry at the door of the academy. 

Qliey now had a double incentive to study and 
do themselves and their teachers credit at the ex- 
amination. They were glad that their teachers had 
given them parts in the exercises that they were 
32 


Dr. EcJcharfs Boys 


sure they could perform well. Richard was in a 
dialogue with another pupil, and Henry was to de- 
claim a poem. They were also in the musical part 
of the program, Richard upon the cornet and Hen- 
ry the mandolin ; and their clear, well-cultivated 
voices were to be heard in the anthems which fur- 
nished the commencement and ending of the exer- 
cises. 

As soon as the programs were printed, Richard 
enclosed one to his uncle and family, with the ex- 
pressed hope that all would come ; and the next 
day the reply came from their uncle, saying it was 
their expected pleasure to be there, and there 
seemed to be nothing, so far as they could see, to 
prevent. 

The time for the examinations came swiftly, and 
the morning of the day Althausen put on a holiday 
^ appearance. Groups of scholars in holiday attire 
were seen upon the street, waiting the coming of 
relatives, that they might conduct them to the best 
seats in the great hall ; and at length Richard and 
Henry saw their uncle and cousins coming, and 
ran to meet them. 

“Where is aunt?” they asked, in a breath. 

“She sent her regrets that she was not' equal to 
tlie long drive, and her love and good washes for 
your successful examination. I shall first have my 
horse cared for, and then we want you boys to go 
with us to a good restaurant, and have coffee with 
3 33 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 

us. We came eady that we might have you with 
us.” 

“But, uncle, we finished breakfast an hour ago,” 
said Henry. 

“Certainly, certainly; but at your age 1 could 
eat a second breakfast and feel no wor.«e for it; 
you must be doubly fortified to-day, that you may 
not stick in the middle of that poem.” 

The boys laughed and made no further objection, 
and, as they walked along the street, felt very 
proud of their pretty cousins, who, in light-colored 
spring costumes looked even handsomer than in the 
dark-blue traveling dresses they wore from Bern- 
feld. 

They also felt cheered after the fine coffee, rolls, 
and butter ; and in good spirits all returned to the 
hall, where the boys introduced their relatives to 
the professors, then went out to watch for their 
father’s carriage. 

They soon saw it, and were delighted tnat both 
father and mother had come, and as many of the 
others as could be spared from home, and yet leave 
room in the carriage for the boys to go home with 
them, unless it was decided that they should go 
the next day to Meadow Valley. 

The places near their uncle and cousins were 
happily yet vacant, and the two families could be 
together, which added much to the pleasure of the 
day. 


34 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 


The examination was a great success, and in 
every branch of study the Eckhart boys were de- 
serving of praise, Henry’s declamation being the 
gem of the entertainment. His handsome eyes, 
bright with intelligent appreciation of his theme, 
his unassuming manner, and his distinct utterance, 
won tlie admiration of the audience, and when he 
finished, the applause was sincere. 

By noon the examination was over, and the final 
anthem could not have been excelled by school- 
boys. Henry went to tell Frau Wiesman not to 
expect him and Richard to dinner, as the two fami- 
lies were to go 'to the restaurant for that meal, 
thus adding the pleasure of novelty to Richard and 
Henry’s happy day. Then the party called to see 
Frau Wiesman, Dr. and Frau Eckhart wishing to 
thank her for her kindness to their boys. A pleas- 
ant walk through the woods back of the town, then 
the two families exchanged wishes for frequent 
visits, the pastor and his daughters returned to 
Meadow Valley, Dr. Eckhart and his family to 
Schonan, and the examination was in the past. 

“I wish it suited you to go home with us this 
evening,” said their uncle, as he bade Richard and 
Henry good-by ; “but I do not wonder that you are 
satisfied to walk the six miles the day after to- 
morrow. At your ages I liked nothing better than 
a good walk, but now a very short one suffices.” 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 


At three o’clock two days after, school was dis- 
missed, and soon after Richard and Henry were on 
their way to Meadow Valley, carrying small knap- 
sacks on their shoulders, and in their pockets some 
good biscuits and ham, which the kind Frau Wies- 
man had given them to eat upon the way. 

Henry was so eager to reach his uncle’s that 
he started off at a rapid pace, but Richard coun- 
seled him to less speed, that his strength be not 
used up in the beginning of the' journey. 

As the days were long, and there would be sev- 
eral hours before sunset, they could stop now and 
then in a cool, shady woods to rest, and drink from 
the streams that ran through them. 

Sandwiches never tasted better to them than 
when eaten there, the only fear being that the lib- 
eral supply would not hold out until time for sup- 
per at their Aunt Bernhard’s, and the splendid ex- 
ercise they were taking created a fine appetite. 

They greeted and were greeted pleasantly by the 
way-passers they met, and sometimes halted for a 
chat. 

At length, they came to a farmhouse where a 
man was harnessing a horse to a carriage. 

“How long will it take us to reach Meadow Val- 
ley?’’ asked Henry. 

“Not more than half an hour, if jmu ride with 

% 

me ; I am going directly there,’’ he replied, pleas- 
antly. 


30 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 


This was good news, for the boys, for a seat in a 
comfortable carriage with an agreeable person was 
a pleasant change. 

Their new friend pointed out all the object!^ of in- 
terest on the way, showed them farms which were 
well-cultivated and which were not, and gave them 
more information about sowing, planting, and har- 
vesting than they had ever heard. They saw that 
he thoroughly understood the subject of farming, 
aud the ride was not only restful, but entertaining 
and instructive. 

“There is the village of Meadow Valley ” said 
the farmer, when they reached the top of a gentle 
knoll, pointing with his whip down at the quiet 
valley surrounded by wooded hills, and through 
which a wide brook flowed, overhung by willows. 
“The parsonage cannot be seen yet, but there is 
the church where he preaches,” and he pointed 
with his whip to a tall steeple with a bell in it. 

“I wish the bell would ring now,” said Henry ; 
“it would sound so clear this beautiful evening.” 

“But it won’t ; it only rings at six o’clock on Sat- 
urday evening to let people be reminded that the 
next day is the blessed day of rest ; then it rings 
on Sunday morning, and again in the evening, to 
tell people to come to church in time.” 

“Doesn’t it ring at the time of a funeral?” asked 
Henry. 


37 


Dr. EcJi'hart’s Boys 


“Yes, it tolls from the time the funeral leaves 
the home until it reaches the churchyard ; and it 
is rung if there happens to be a fire.” 

“Just like our church-bell at Schonan. Is the 
church a new one?” 

“No, it has been built more than a hundred 
years, but it is a good church yet. People built in 
those days to stand the wear and tear of time ; 
now, everything is done in a hurry. Yes, it is a 
beautiful, substantial church, and we are proud 
of it.” 

“It certainly looks beautiful from here,” said 
Richard. 

“There is the parsonage,” said the farmer, after 
a time ; yes, yes, the pastor will die in Meadow 
Valley.” 

“Why ! how !” asked the boys, anxiously ; “is 
he ill? Has he met with an accident?” 

“Not that I know of,” smiled their companion ; 
and then they understood that the people were so 
well pleased with Pastor Bernhard, and he with 
them, that nothing but death should separate them. 

The carriage rolled quite swiftly along the main 
street of Meadow Valley and halted before the door 
of the old-fashioned stone dwelling near the church. 
A green hedge surrounded the grass lawn, and 
paths bordered with flowers led up to the wide 
porch covered with flowering vines' and gay with 
pot-plants in luxuriant bloom. 

38 


CHAPTER IV. 


The Chapel Festival. 

As soon as the boys stepped from the carriage 
and thanked the good farmer for his kindness, he 
went on up the street to attend to the business 
that had brought him to Meadow Valley, and they 
walked up the graveled path to the parsonage and 
rang the bell, and their uncle met them at the 
door. 

“Well, well !” he said, cheerfully, “you have 
come at last ; we have been looking for you for 
more than an hour, and began to feair that you 
were not coming.” 

“We were to start at noon, .uncle ; instead, we 
did not have liberty until three o’clock; but we 
had the good fortune to ride with a farmer several 
miles of the way.” 

“There is always good fortune for those who 
search for it in the right way,” said their uncle. 

The aunt and cousins now came and welcomed 
them heartily, and the boys felt as much at home 
as if it were the twentieth visit instead of the 
second. 

“Now, they can go up to their room and refresh 

themselves ; they will find plenty of fresh, cool wa- 
3t) 


Dr. Eckhart's Boys 


ter, and by the time they are reaidy, supper will 
be on the table,” said their aunt; and with knap- 
sacks still upon their shoulders, they ran up to the 
room. 

“Oh, how quaint and old-fashioned the house 
appeared, with the solid stone walls, the deep 
windows with tiny panes of glass, the shutters 
w^ith heart-shaped pieces cut from the upper part 
to let in the light, the broad stairway, the low 
ceilings, everything different from any house they 
had ever seen! 

But the sweet peace that pervaded the home, 
the genuine, loving kindness, the contented seren- 
ity and cheerfulness, were like those of their fa- 
ther’s house ; they realized that life there could not 
be anything but happy, as it was in their own dear 
home. 

They did full justice to their aunt’s excellent 
supper, and when it was finished all went to the 
veranda, and were scarcely seated when a boy 
came to the gate crying lustily. In scaling the 
graveyard wall to search for wild plums in the 
grass, he had fallen upon a piece of slate and cut 
his head. 

“Poor boy !” exclaimed Mary ; “come right in 
and I will bind up your wounded head.” 

She led him out to the garden and gave him a 
place upon a bench, then brought a, basin of tepid 

water and some healing salve, 

40 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 


Bathing the wound until it ceased bleeding, she 
spread the salve upon a soft piece of linen, bound 
it about his head, and he went away, satisfied and 
comforted. 

“You are a good doctor, Cousin Mary,” said 
Richard ; “father could not have dressed that 
wound better. But why did he come here, instead 
of going to a doctor?” 

“The only physician lives half a mile out of the 
village, and the poor people have always come to 
the parsonage when any mishap has come their 
way. It was the same in Bernfeld ; we attended 
to all the small cases like this. They seemed natu- 
rally to expect help and sympathy from the min- 
ister’s family.” 

Pastor Bernhard had gone immediately to his 
study when tea was finished, it being Friday even- 
ing, and the sermon not yet ready. He returned in 
time for evening prayers and a hymn, then the 
boys said good-night and went to the room given 
them, when', upon a comfortable bed, they slept 
the whole night, and did not wake until the sun 
had been up more than an hour. 

They were glad to take breakfast in the same 
room where supper had been set the evening be- 
fore, for it looked so homelike and pleasant, and 
was so cool, and comfortable, and fragrant from 
the blossoms of the woodbine that peeped in the 
^pen windows. The bees hummed about it, and 
41 


Dr. EckharVs Boys 


the garden bej^ond with its great trees was vocal 
with the song of birds. 

“I have a favor to ask of you boys,” said the 
Vastor. “Will you oblige me?” 

“Certainly, certainly, uncle,” they replied, in a 
bi'eath. 

“On Monday I am to go to preach at the church 
at Mossdorf, where a yearly festival is held. As it 
is my first year here, I do not quite understand 
what part of the program is to fall to my share, 
and have not time to go to inquire. If you will 
go this afternoon, and inquire of the church war- 
den, I shall be much obliged. Or, if you prefer, I 
will write a note to him.” 

The boys agreed that this was the better plan, 
and said they would be ready to go at any time 
he wished. 

“I wall go with you in a walk through the village 
this morning,” said Mary ; “then you can go as 
soon as papa has the note ready after dinner.” 

They found their cousin a fine guide. She took 
them to all the places of interest, and, knowing the 
chronicles of the little village, her conversation was 
entertaining, and by the time they came home to 
dinner, they felt they knew the neighborhood as 
well as if they had lived in it for years. 

She took them to an old bridge which spanned a 
creek, and they looked, down at the water running 
swiftly over the stones. 


42 


Dr'. EcJchart^s Boys 


“Once there stood a chapel near this bridge,'’ 
said Mary, “and there was a small stone dwelling 
near it in which lived an old woman who took cart 
of the chapel. It was said that the water of thu 
creek had healing properties, especially for dis 
eases of the eyes, and people came from a great 
distance to bathe their eyes in the creek and take 
avv'ay with them bottles of the water.” 

“Where did the pastor live who preached in the 
chapel?” 

“In the parsonage, where we live now. The peo- 
ple paid in tithes, as they did in old Bible times.” 

“It would be hard to give a tithe of grain, 1 
think,” said Richard. 

“No, when the grain was in sacks' of equail size, 
out of every ten was given one; the tenth sack of 
potatoes, and the hops from the tenth hop-poie, 
would be given to the pastor and his family.” 

But Meadow Valley is a thickly-settled neigh- 
borhood. I should think the pastor would have 
more than he could use in grass, and fruit, and veg- 
etables.” 

“But it was not nearly so thickly-settled a hun- 
dred years ago, nor was the land so well cultivated 
as it is now ; besides, the pastor could sell what he 
did not need to those who could not raise these 
things.” 

“Did they give the tenth of cattle and other an- 
imals and poultry?"' 


43 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 


‘‘Yes ; that was called blood tithes.” 

This was all new and Interesting to the boys ; 
they lingered on the oIq bridge and looked at the 
spot where the chapei stood, and thought of the 
man who preached there one hundred years ago. 

“We must go home now,” said Mary ; “it is 
U( arly dinner-time, and you are to take a walk this 
af':ernoon.” 

“We will come here again, brother,” said Rich- 
aird “it is the loveliest spot I ever saw.” 

A.S soon as dinner was finished, their uncle gave 
them the note for the warden, and directions for 
reaching Mossdorf, and they set out. 

They had not the least difficulty in finding the 
place, nor the chapel, for it was on the main 
street. To their surprise, they saw by the en- 
trance to it sacks of potatoes and other vegeta- 
bles, which a man was busily loading into a wagon. 

Inside, there were several busy workers ; the 
walls had been newly whitewashed, the windows 
polished, and the pulpit dressed with wild flowers, 
and upon a step-ladder an elderly woman M as pol- 
ishing the plaster bust of the pastor ho had 
preached a hundred years before in the chapel near 
the bridge they had stood upon that morning. 

“Now, Frau Weber,” remarked one of the work 
ers, “you can do no more for it ; you have made 
it look like new.” 


44 


f 


Dr. Echhart^s Boys 

“Yes, I have done all I can” ; and as Frau Weber 
stepped from the ladder her glance rested upon the 
two boys. 

“For many years this has been my only work in 
help of this yearly festival,” she said to them ; “I 
always wonder if I shall be spared to pol’sh it an- 
other year.” 

“Whose statue is it?” asked Richard. 

“Pastor Berthold, who preaiched here one hun- 
dred years ago. I keep it pure not only from re- 
spect to the memory of a great and good man, but 
because this is God’s house, and every object in it 
should be in perfect cleanliness. Have you come to 
say you will be at our chapel festivail?” 

“We had not thought we might come, but would 
love to be here. Our uncle, who is pastor of Mead- 
ow Valley Church, sent us with a note to Warden 
Berthold, who lives at Berthold’s Mill. He ad- 
vised us to stop here first, as he might be here.” 

“He has been nere, but hais finished what he had 
to do and gone back to the mill. I live there, and 
am going in a little while, and you can go with 
me.” 

“Are you the mother of the miller?” asked Rich- 
ard. 

“Yes, of the former miller, not of this one. My 
name is Weber, and my sou, who was once the 
miller, went fifteen years ago to America. I look 

for him to come home any day. I pray for him 
45 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 

each day and night ; and if he is above ground he 
will come, my bo 3 % my only one!” 

“Who takes care of you now, that he is away?” 

“Herr and Frau Berthold, who have the mill, ail 
low me to stay in my one apartment in it; thej 
are very, very good to me.” 

They had been walking toward the mill while 
talking, and when they reached the top of a hill, 
she asked them to stop and look about them. 

“See our chapel,” she said ; “is it not beautiful 
with the afternoon sun shining upon it?” 

"Yes, it is beautiful,” said Richard: “snowy 
white, and shaded by the green trees.” 

"Is this the stream that turns the mill wheel?” 
asked Henry. 

“Yes, and it is never-failing; a blessed boon it is 
to the whole region about it. It was Pastor Ber- 
thold, whose statue you saw me polishing, who dis- 
cerned the healing property of the water. It 
\vas he who had the mill built, and one of his 
name has always been miller there. Oh, he was 
the good angel of Mossdorf 1 He bulk the old 
chapel, and his preaching in it converted all the 
people about the neighborhood. The chapel has 
gone long ago, but the descendants of the people 
who worshiped there built the one yju were in 
to-day. Pastor Berthold is in heaven, bu*^ his work 
lives after him.” 

“That is what my father and my uncle say of all 

good people,” remarked Henry. 

46 


Dr. Eckh art's Boys 


“They are right, as none should know better than 
tlie people of Mossdorf. The mill still runs, the 
waters of the creek still have their healing prop- 
erties, and we hold Pastor Berthold as one indeed 
sent of God, and thank Him daily for having sent 
him. We honor his memory ; and I am allowed the 
privilege of keeping the statue of him pure and 
clean. When 1 am gone, my son is to have that 
privilege.” 

They had reached the old mill by this time, and 
the miller, who was standing in the yard, greeted 
them kindly. 

“Here is a note our uncle, the pastor o*’ Meadow 
Valley Church, sent you, and asks you tc return a 
reply by us,” said Richard. 

“I will, and while I am writing it, you can take 
a walk over the mill if you wish.” 

“Thank you ; we shall be glad to,” saia the boys. 
We have heard its history from Frau Weber.” 

“I am going to my room,” said their old friend, 
“and when you have been over the mill, 1 should 
like to have you come in and see me before you go.” 

“It is very kind,” said the boys, in pleased sur- 
prise ; “we shall be glad to see where you have lived 
so long.” 

“Yes, all my life; my great-grandfather lived 
here, then my grandfather, then my father: then it 
passed out of the name while my husband was 
miller, but is back again now in one of my great- 
47 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 


great-nephews. It has always been Berthokl’s Mill 
since it was built.” 

While they were speaking the rosy fa'^-e of the 
miller’s wife appeared at the door, and, seeing the 
boys, she went to her pantry and returned with a 
plate of sugar cakes and a pitcher of clear, cold 
water. 

The boys appreciated the refreshment and the 
kindness, and thanked her heartily, then went to 
every part of the old mill, alid when they reached 
the entrance, Frau Berthold was there to lead them 
to Frau Weber’s apartment. 

They followed her through a dim passageway 
with a stone floor until they reached her door, and, 
upon hearing their gentle knock, Frau Weber open- 
ed it and invited them to enter. 

They were agreeably surprised at the contrast be- 
tween her room and the dreary entry which led to 
it. Through the two brightly-polished windows the 
afternoon sun shone cheerfully, and the place was 
spotlessly clean. In one corner was a high bed, 
upon a high post bedstead, the spread and all the 
linen about it white as it could be made. 

In the opposite corner was a cupboard in which 
glistened old-time china and gla'ssware. In another 
was an ancient, tall clock with a loud, solemn tick ; 
and in another a chest of drawers dark with age, 
but with brass handles which shone in the sun- 
light. 


48 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 


Upon a' small table in the center of the large 
':00m was a large Bible and a bouquet of flowers 
she had gathered in the woods in her walks from the 
village, and by it an old-time cushioned chair. 

She had laid aside her bonnet, and with her neat 
print dress and white cap, her serene and kind 
manner, was a perfect specimen of a peaceful and 
happy, because pious, old age. 

“It is a beautiful room,” said Henry, glancing 
about him. 

“Yes, Nelly and I are happy in this room ; we 
wish for nothing better until I am railed to my 
heavenly home.” 

“Nelly?” echoed Richard, and a large, white cat, 
hearing her name, arose from a cushion back of the 
stove, and, stretching herself, came forward to be 
petted. 

“Nelly is very affectionate,” remarked Frau 
Weber; “she is much company for me. We are 
w'arm in winter and cool in summer in this old mill. 
We would not exchange it for a palace.” 

“Are you never lonely here?” asked Richard. 

“Never; is not Jesus always with me? and can 
there be better company than he to those who love 
him? No, no, dear; besides, I have much to make 
me happy. I have a good home, kind relatives in 
this old mill, wdio would come to me ary hour of 
the day or night; and do I not look hourly for my 

Ludwug? What could I ask more in this world? 

4 49 


Dr. Eckharfs Boys 


“But what amusement have you?” asked Richard. 

“1 have pleasant recreations. I call my knitting 
and sewing recreation, for I have pleasant thoughts 
of times that are past — ^thoughts of dear ones who 
are waiting for me in heaven. Now, this evening, 
after my good cup of tea, I have the pleasant task 
of making wreaths to put in the church on Mon- 
day, especially one of evergreen for the bust of 
Pastor Berthold; I consider that a recreation.” 

The boys, in their youth and strength thought 
that it would not satisfy them, but they felt better 
for having passed an hour with this happy Chris- 
tian, an hour they never forgot in all their after 
lives, for it had its influence in makmg them the 
useful, practical Christian men they proved to be. 

“Come and see me again, dear boys,” she said, 
as they arose to go ; “it does me good to see young 
people.” 

“And it does us good to see older people when 
they are like you,” replied Richard. 

Just as they were about to open the door, they 
heard footsteps in the stone-paved entry, the door 
opened, and a tall, broad-shouldered man entered, 
and, with a smile of joy upon his bronzed faice, 
clasped the old lady in his arms and kissed her. 

“Mother,” he said, “are the wreaths for the Ber- 
thold statue ready for the Monday festival?” 

“Oh, my son, my loved Ludwig !” cried Frau 


Dr. EcTcharfs Boys 


Weber, her voice trembling with happiness, “you 
have come ; truly God is good to me.” 

She kissed him again and again, while tea'rs of 
joy stood in her eyes. “Is it really my Ludwig 
come back to stay?” 

“Yes, dear mother, God has brought me safely 
home, and, if he so wills it, will allow me to remain 
with you.” 

Deeply touched, the boys would have gone qui- 
etly out, but L^rau Weber spoke and detained 
tliem. 

“Please tell the good pastor that God has heard 
my prayer, and my Ludwig has come back to me.” 

Charmed with all they had seen and beard that 
afternoon, and with this pleasant message to their 
uncle, the brothers went back to Meadow Valley, 
pleased that, next to the mother, they had been 
first to see the returned son. 

Pastor Bernhard and his family rejoiced greatly 
over the good fortune of their honored oid friend, 
whose dearest wish upon earth was now granted, 
and they looked forward to the next day, when they 
hoped to see the wanderer, of whom they had heard 
so much. 

They were not disappointed in this. He was 
there, glad to meet the new pastor and his old 
friends ; and the Bernhard family saw that the 
words of appreciation they had heard of I'rau Web- 


51 


Dr. EcTcharfs Boys 

er’s son were well merited, for he was a sensible, 
earnest, God-fearing man. 

Many of the congregation came several miles and 
walked all the way ; the women and children went 
into the church and took seats, but until Mie service 
commenced the men remained outside to await the 
ringing of the bell. 

The boys never forgot that first Sunday at Mead- 
ow Valley, nor the service in the church. The plain, 
convincing sermon, the quaint, earnest people, the 
old-time church, and the fragrant summer air which 
stirred the foliage of the lofty trees which sur- 
rounded it. 

In the afternoon Ludwig Weber called to see the 
pastor, and was urged to remain to afternoon coffee 
in the garden. He had seen trouble since leaving 
Meadow Valley. He had lost all his savings by 
fire, but a greater loss was that of his beloved wife 
by death, just when they had decided to come to 
Meadow Valley to remain with his mother in her 
declining years. 

“But my trials have been blessed to mf*.;’ he con- 
cluded ; “I feel nearer to my Saviour and his love 
than I ever did in the days of my prosperity and 
freedom from real sorrow.” 

“God has answered the prayer of your pious 
mother,” replied the pastor; “she has had faith 
that she would see you again in this life, and see 
you a Christian. I look forward to seeing her hap- 
py face at the festival at the chapel.” 

52 


Dr. EcJcharfs Boys 

The next morning the pastor and his family, in- 
cluding his nephews, had a beautiful walk from the 
parsonage to Mossdorf, their walk through flowery 
meadows and the dim, still woods enlivened by 
pleasant chat. 

“I hope you will sing this morning,” said Mary 
to the boys, “for there is no organ, and ihe music 
depends upon the people. Fortunately they now 
have a leader; but the neighbors told me that be- 
fore he came the hymn would be raised several 
times before they could hit upon the right tune.” 

“I am glad that Richard and Henry will see the 
chapel for the first time in its holiday attire, and 
at its best,” said Melanie. It is said that the farm-' 
ers store their potatoes and other vegetables in it 
in winter. I saw it once just a few days after we 
came here, and it was looking terribly neglected.” 

“Who allows it to be used in that way?” asked 
Richard. 

“It has been the custom for a hundred years for 
them to store their produce there, to be taken out 
at the spring festival. Papa is striving to induce 
them to dig cellars, but they wish to do as their 
forefathers did; they think what was right then is 
right now.” 

The bell in the chapel began to ring as soon as 
the pastor appeared; it was scarcely more than a 
tinkle, but added to the festive spirit of the festi- 
val, as did the wild flowers and the holiday attire 

and smiling faces of the people. 

53 


Dr. Echhart's Boys 


The aged pastor of a neighboring village sat be- 
hind the desk, his face brown and wrinkled, but 
with such a look of peace upon it that it did one 
good to see it, and near the door stood an old shep- 
herd, bell-rope in hand, solemnly ringing the bell. 

The people had come from villages and farm- 
houses miles away ; every seat was filled, and many 
of the men stayed outside and heard the sermon 
through the open windows. 

Sympathy in the joy of Frau Weber on the re- 
turn of her son was freely expressed, and both pas- 
tors thanked God in their prayers that he had been 
permitted to return. 

The dinner was spread on long tables under the 
forest trees, the food being the very best the neigh- 
borhood afforded, and all the housewives had done 
their very best in the preparation of it. 

Cheerfulness prevailed, for this yearly festival 
was looked forward to for one half of the year and 
backward to for the other half, by all their little 
world. 

The returned traveler, next to the two pastors 
and their families, was helped, and never was hap- 
pier in his life than when seated by his mother. 
He remembered the days of his childhood, for he 
had never missed one of these festivals in his life, 
except those which were celebrated during his ab- 
sence. 

After dinner was finished, t|iey sat under- the 
64 ‘ ■■ “ ■ 


Dr. EcJcharfs Boys 


trees and talked, or walked through the woods, and 
Richard and Henry never had a pleasanter day. 

‘'It seems that these people never had any trouble 
in their whole lives,” said Richard ; “every one is so 
happy.” 

The next morning while he and Henry were dress- 
ing they saw people hurrying towmrd Mossdorf, and 
knew something must have happened. 

“Let us run and ask as soon as we are dressed,” 
said Henry ; “we can ask the first person we see.” 

“Oh, young master ! a great misfortune ” replied 
the man. “Ludwig Weber was drowmd in the 
creek. Yesterday in perfect health, this morning is 
lying dead.” 

“His poor old mother !” said a woman beside 
them ; “yesterday she was so happy.” 

“But how did it happen?” asked Richard, who, 
like his brother, had turned pale upon hearing of 
the catastrophe. 

“No one knows. He went from the festival to see 
a cousin, who lives a mile beyond Mossd(>rf, and in 
returning fell from the bridge into water so shallow 
that it could not drown any one. He fell upon his 
face in the water, and it is thought that he lost con- 
sciousness before he fell, and that caused the fall.” 

Deeply grieved, the brothers returned to the par- 
sonage and told the sad story, and the beautiful 
morning was clouded for them all. 

“I must go and see the poor, bereaved mother,” 
55 


Dr. Echhart's Boys 

said Pastor Bernhard ; “it pierces my heart to 
think of her grief. Such distress after the joy of 
yesterday !” 

“It would have been better if she had not lived 
until he came back,” remarked Henry. 

“No, we must not think that,” replied his aunt ; 
“God’s ways appear dark, but we must have confi- 
dence in his love, and know that what he does is 
right. We can sympathize with the poor mother, 
but must at the same time believe that all is for the 
best.” 

Pastor Bernhard went as soon as he finished 
breakfast, and when he reached Berthold’s Mill, 
found that the body of Ludwig had been taken there. 

He returned to the parsonage an hour later with 
a look of quiet resignation upon his face. 

“God has been indeed gracious to our aged 
friend,” he said ; “he called her home before the 
word reached her of her son’s death. They are to- 
gether now forever.” 

“They were lovely and pleasant in their lives, and 
in their death were not divided,” said Frau Bern- 
hard. “I wonder at what hour she died?’' 

“No one knows ; she had evidently sat up waiting 
for the son, who did not expect to stay late. The 
lamp was still burning upon the table, and her 
open Bible was upon her lap. A smile of perfect 
peace is upon her face, that does one good to see; 

truly she has died the death of the righteous.” 

5G 


CHAPTER V. 


An English Visitor. 

The enjoyable holiday was over, and the boys 
returned home where another great pleasure await- 
ed them. This was the promised visit of a favorite 
uncle, the brother of Frau Eckhart. 

“What day will he come, mother?” they asked, 
eagerly. 

“He has not as yet appointed a day, but is to 
write again.” 

“I am sure he will be pleased with our new 
home,” remarked Dr. Eckhart ; “he loves the 
country, and our grounds are so beautiful now.” 

The family were at breakfast, and through the 
open windows came the odor of blooming vines and 
the song of birds, and the gentle murmur of a small 
stream of water which wound through one end of 
the garden on its way to Berthold’s Mill. 

“There is the postman,” exclaimed Henry, as 
a fjuick peal of the bell sounded through the house ; 
“I hope he brings a letter from Uncle Eric.” 

He sprang up, ran to the door, and returned 
waving a letter triumphantly. 

“It is for you, mother,” he said, “and is from 
Uncle Eric; I know his writing.” 

57 


Dr. Echliart's Boys 

Frau Eckhart took the letter and all listened 
with interest as she read aloud. “Dear Sister: 
I expect to reach Schonan this evening about six 
o’clock, and will bring with me an English boy, 
fifteen years old, who is traveling under my care to 
Vienna, and for whom I ask your hospitality for 
the two days we will be your guests, well knowing 
that my request will be granted.” 

“Indeed we will receive him gladly,” said Dr. 
Eckhart ; “he will be good company for the boys.” 

“If he can only understand us,” objected Rich- 
ard. “The only English words I know are in the 
first sentence of ‘The Vicar of Wakefield’ — ‘I was 
ever of the opinion.’ ^I never got any further than 
that, and if he does not understand German, I am 
afraid he will have a dull time.” 

“I am afraid he will be distant and stiff,” said 
Henry ; “if he is like our German boys, it will be 
jolly to have him here.” 

“Oh, a boy of that age won’t be stiff and proud,” 
said Helena ; “besides, I will get the English and 
German conversation book and learn some ques- 
tions and answers.” 

The moment they arose from the table, Fran 
Eckhart and Adelheid went to prepare the guest- 
chamber, and Dr. Eckhart hurried away to his pa- 
tients. He returned in time for ofiice hours, and 
then away again, hoping to be back in time to help 
receive their guests and remain with them all the 
evening. 


58 


Dr. Echhart's Boys 

He was favored in this, reaching home before 
six, and found the tea-table set under the shade of 
the trees in the garden, in readiness for him and 
their guests. 

They had not long to wait. Soon the sound of 
wheels was heard, and the whole family went to 
the gate and welcomed Uncle Eric with open arms. 

But they did not forget the English stranger in 
their delight. They greeted him cordially, and he, 
in turn, soon felt at home with these kind, warm- 
hearted people. 

“Now, young Germany,” said Uncle Eric, “you 
must do your best to make this son of Albion, 
Frank Heywood have a pleasant visit, for he is 
worthy all the attention you can give him.” 

The doctor’s boys were not only glad to oblige 
their uncle, but they liked the English boy the mo- 
ment they caught sight of him, and arm in arm es- 
corted him to the garden, preceded by their pa- 
rents and uncle and followed by the girls, who 
hoped the guests would notice the flowers upon the 
table, which they had arranged so effectively. 

Helena found that it was not necessary to study 
the conversation book, as Frank could converse 
well in the German language, and to Richard, who 
sat next to him at the table, he told of his parents 
and of bis school life. 

He w^as the son of a missionary, and was born 
in India, but the climate did not agree with him, 
59 


Dr. Echhart’s Boys 


and when seven years of age, he was sent to En- 
glish relatives, while his father and mother re- 
mained to do their God-appointed work. He was 
contented with his relatives, who were very kind 
to him, but as soon as his education was finished, 
and his health better, he intended returning to 
India to do what he could as one of the world’s 
workers. 

Although most of the food upon the supper-table 
was foreign to Frank, he enjoyed it heartily ; the 
plum marmalade was appetizing with the sweet 
brown bread, and the lettuce, dressed with sugar, 
vinegar, and oil, excellent to his taste. 

As soon as they finished, all took a walk over 
the grounds, and Dr. Eckhart showed the visitors 
his young fruit-trees, grape-vines, and berry bushes, 
all of which had been planted since he took pos- 
session of Rosehill. Frau Eckhart and the girls 
showed them their rose bushes. Little Anna made 
a specialty of wild flowers, which her father had 
helped her plant in a moist, shady part of the gar- 
den. 

They had been over the grounds, and were about 
to play a game of tennis, when there was a call for 
the doctor to go many miles out in the country to 
see a sick child. 

The young people expressed their disappoint- 
ment, but the doctor said, cheerfully, “Duty before 
pleasure, my children” ; and the mother said, 
60 


])i\ Echliart’s Boys 

“Suppose it were our little Anna who needed a 
doctor?” 

“Perhaps you would like to take a drive with 
me, Eric?” said Dr. Eckhart. “I should be more 
than glad to have you.” 

“Certainly I will go ; it will be pleasant to see 
this beautiful neighborhood in such good com- 
pany.” 

They drove away, and the young people enjoyed 
the game until it was too dark to see the ball, so 
came to the house, and on the porch where they 
could enjoy the clear moonlight they listened with 
delight to Prank’s remembrances of far-away In- 
dia. 

When the father and uncle returned, they had 
prayers, then all retired to rest, and Frank thought 
he had never slept so well in his life as upon the 
high German bed. 

The next morning when they gathered about the 
bi-eakfast-table on the veranda. Uncle Eric told the 
boys of what he had seen on his visit to England, 
and, being in the grain business, told them espe- 
cially of the immense grain warehouses that he 
had inspected. 

Ilis nephews were interested in all he told them 
of England, and Prank said if they would come to 
visit him when he returned to London, he would 
take them to see many interesting places in that 
wonderful city. 


(>1 


Dr. Echliarfs Boys 

When breakfast was finished, Dr. Eckhart in- 
vited his brother-in-law to drive with him upon his 
rounds, and Richard and Henry took Frank on a 
boating expedition down the creek. Since coming 
to Schonan their father had taught them to handle 
the oars, and one of their chief pleasures in hours 
from school was boating. 

Frau Eckhart put up a basket of luncheon for 
them, and when they reached the boat-house they 
had expert help in Frank in making ready. They 
found that he could row as well as they, and knew 
much more about different kinds of boats and 
vessels. 

“Where did you learn?” asked Henry, admiring 
the many branches of knowledge which their visitor 
possessed. 

“You know I sailed from India on a merchant 
vessel, and was old enough to remember what the 
sailors told me about steamers, and schooners, 
men-of-war, and other ships. Then, I have spent 
all my vacations at Weymouth, and took interest 
in everything that sailed upon water.” 

They rowed down the stream for a mile or more, 
then tied the boat to a tree along the bank, and, 
stepping out, went to a shady woods. 

They rested and talked there so long that it was 
time to eat their lunch, and though the allowance 
for them was abundant, they ate every crumb ; and 
all agreed that eating under the shade of a great 

oak-tree was one of the pleasures of life. 

02 


Dr. EckliaiDs Boys 


They were about to go to the boat for a further 
row down the creek, when they saw a boy running 
across a field, calling, them to halt. 

“It is George, the shepherd’s son,” said Richard ; 
‘T wonder what he wants?” 

The boy soon came up to the place where they 
were standing, his cheeks red from running, but 
his honest, good-humored face showing his pleas- 
ure in having seen them. 

“I am so glad that you waited,” he said, “for it 
saved me a walk to Schonan. Tell your father we 
are going to wash the sheep this afternoon, and if 
he wants his washed this is the time that he can 
get help. At three o’clock we will have the sheep 
in the meadow near our cottage.” 

“Hurrah ! we will go ; and Frank will see a 
sheep-washing !” cried Henry, throwing up his cap. 
“We will not go further down the creek, but go 
home and tell father. I hope he will be at home 
when we get there.” 

It being one of his office hours. Dr. Eckhart was 
at home, and was willing that the boys should go 
to help wash the sheep ; but the mother was afraid 
some accident might happen, or that Frank, who 
was far from strong, might take cold from standing 
in the water. 

“I think there will be no danger,” said Dr. Eck- 
hart ; “Shepherd George is very careful, and the 
boys are not reckless.” 

G3 


Dr. Eckharfs Boys 


“And I do not think there is the least danger 
of Frank taking cold,” added Uncle Eric ; “the 
water is warm, and he is used to bathing at the 
sea-shore.” 

“Can he swim?” asked Frau Eckhart, anxiously. 

“Like a fish,” replied her brother; so it was de- 
cided that the four boys should go, and in glee they 
hurried off to get old suits of clothes to put on while 
washing the sheep, Henry supplying Frank, they 
being near of a size. With large towels in their 
hands, they crossed several fields until they came 
to the meadow which bordered the creek. 

From the hills came the shrill sound of a fife, 
which was the signal that Shepherd George and 
the sheep were in the meadow by the creek. All 
the village boys heard the sound, and were running 
toward the spot where were eighty sheep, watched 
by the shepherd’s faithful dogs. 

“Our sheep are the very prettiest of the whole 
lot,” said Richard, “and they know us, although 
they have not seen us for several weeks, because 
when the weather gets warm they do not come to 
their stalls at night, but stay out in the meadow.” 

In proof of this the five sheep left the herd to 
meet the boys who had petted them and fed them 
with tempting bits from the table. 

“I am sorry we did not bring something for 
them ; they will be disappointed,” said Henry. 

“But I did not forget,” said Ernest, as he took 
G4 


Dr. Eckhart's Boy 8 


from his pocket a paper sack in which were pieces 
of cake, sugar, apple, and salt, and he was the 
favorite among the sheep that day. 

Frank was amused to see the gentle creatures 
stand on tlieir hind feet and put their front ones 
on Ernest's shoulders as he fed them, and doubly 
interested to see that each had a name. 

“This one is Daphne,” said Richard ; “just no- 
tice her beautiful brown eyes. This one with a 
sharp nose is Phyllis ; there stands the timid Dor- 
ris, that runs from everybody but her friends ; that 
one is the bashful Chloe, that will not come to get 
anything nice to eat but waits until you take it 
to her, .and that brown one is Diabella.” 

“Does Shepherd George know all the sheep that 
he has the care of?” 

“Yes ; but they are not named as ours are. You 
would laugh to hear him calling ours. He never 
gets the names right, but near enough for them to 
understand and follow.” 

“Where will we go to put on the other clothes?” 
asked Frank. 

“To George’s house ; his mother will give us a 
room, he told us, and "we will leave our clothes 
and towels there.” 

They hurried to the cottage, and George’s mother 
was pleased to see them, gave them the room wil- 
lingly, and as soon as they had put on their old 
garments they rolled up the legs of their trousers 
5 65 


Dr. E cellar fs Boys 

as far as they would go, and ran back to the 
creek. 

They found that during their absence the sheep 
liad been driven into a pen from which a wooden 
bridge led down to the water. 

There were several helpers, and the washing 
went on rapidly. The boys were soon among the 
workers, but found that holding the sheep that ob- 
jected to being washed was more of a task than 
they thought. 

Frank was fortunate enough to get one that was 
not so eager to get loose to run in the meadow, and 
his was the first sheep that George pronounced 
clean enough to be allowed to run ashore. 

But fate had a trial and excitement in store 
for the sheep-washers, for Carl Peters, who was 
washing one of the sheep, in trying to hold him, 
slipped down, but still held on to the animal’s neck. 
It made several leaps for liberty in the meadow, 
and, pressing against a rope which had marked off 
a spot in the creek which was quite deep, broke it 
from its moorings, and he and Carl sunk beneath 
the water. 

“Let go, let go, or you will both drown !” cried 
several voices ; but Carl clung closely to the neck 
of the sheep, for he could not swim. 

“Henry, Frank, come and help !” cried Richard, 
as he ran toward the spot. The heads of Carl and 

the sheep rose for an instant further out in the creek, 
66 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 

and Richard swam to them, followed by the others. 

Carl had relaxed his hold, and when Richard 
reached him he was almost past help ; but Richard 
grasped his foot, and, holding on, swam with him 
to the shore. There many helping hands were 
extended, and the boy was soon on the bank, where 
he recovered from his fright, and was grateful to 
Richard for saving his life, and to Frank, who had 
aided him. 

The weight of the water in the thick wool of the 
sheep had dragged it down, and it was drowned ; 
but all were glad that a human life was saved. 

Richard went to the cottage followed by his 
brothers and Frank, and all changed their cloth- 
ing and hurried home, fearing that their loved ones 
tliere would hear of the accident and be alarmed 
about them. 

“We are proud of you,” said Dr. Eckhart, when 
he heard the story ; “it is something to have saved 
a life.” 

“They are brave boys, indeed,” said Frau Eck- 
hart ; “oh, how grateful we should be to God, who 
protected them, while they were striving to save 
another !” 

“Who would have thought that Frank would 
have had such an experience on his first visit to 
Germany?” remarked Uncle Eric. 

“But, Uncle, you must not give me credit for 

saving a life ; I only aided Richard by supporting 
07 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 

Carl’s heatl and making it easier for Richard to 
sw im. We both kept out of reach of Carl’s arms, 
knowing that he would be apt to grasp us and puH 
us down.” 

“It reminds me of an experience in my own 
youthful days, when I came near losing my life 
I)y drowning,” remarked Uncle Eric, reflectively. 

“Tell us about it. Uncle,” said Henry, eagerly. 

“I was a young man at the time, just out of my 
teens ; and two of my friends, as full of life and 
buoyant spirits as myself, went out in a sail-boat 
on the Danube. 

We had hired but a small boat, believing we 
could manage it, although no one of us had had 
much experience in the management of boats. 

“We had gone several miles out in the river, 
when a sudden storm came up. We could not man- 
age the sails, and our boat keeled over and threw 
us in the river. 

We were good swimmers, but were so far from 
shore that we feared our strength would fail us 
before we could reach it. I thought it wise to 
float, thus saving my strength, and hoped to drift 
to the shore. I called to my two companions, but 
could hear nothing of them, and gave both up as 
lost, and scarcely hoped to live to see my loved 
ones ; but at length I heard the sound of oars, 
and called as loudly as my nearly exhausted 
strength would permit. I w'as seen and lifted into 

the boat, and then lost consciousness.” 

68 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 


“Were the other two lost?” asked Richard. 

“No; to my great joy I saw one of them stand- 
ing beside me when I revived, but the other had 
sunk to rise no more.” 

“Tell them what your thoughts were, brother, 
while you were floating about in the water,” said 
Frau Eckhart. 

“I thought of all my loved ones who would grieve 
over me ; and I grieved for my two comrades who, 
I feared, had lost their lives ; but more than all, 
I thought of my nearness to eternity, and, strange 
to say, 'through all my thoughts ran the words of 
and old hymn my grandmother used to sing — 

“ ‘All things earthly fade away. 

But God’s love is forever.’ 

“This thought gave me comfort, as perhaps noth- 
ing else could have done ; and I have endeavored to 
prove my gratitude for prolonged life by using it in 
doing all the good I can wherever I can.” 

The listeners were deeply interested in hearing 
this experience, and when the boys, after even- 
ing prayers, retired for the night, they felt that 
they had also reason to be grateful to God. 

The next day they bade farewell to their kind 
friends, and Richard and Henry told their mother 
that Frank Heywood was one of the most pleasant 
guests they had ever entertained. 


CD 


CHAPTER VI. 


A Mystery Until Explained, 

“Mother,” asked Ernest one day, “do you know 
the old man, named Signer, who lives at the other 
end of the village?” 

“No ; I do not remember having seen him.” 

“He walks with crutches, and often passes here. 
He is very poor, and the village people give him 
something to eat whenever he goes to their houses.” 

“Who told you of him?” asked Frau Eckhart. 

“.lohn Haupt; he thinks a great deal of Signer.” 

“I suppose the poor man is not able to work.” 

“Not much, for he has rheumatism ; perhaps 
papa could help him.” 

“Yes; I am sure he would do what he can; 
rheumatism is sometimes hard to cure, but it is 
cured in many cases, especially when not of long 
standing — not chronic. What did he do when able 
to work?” 

“He v/as a farmer, but now he plaits straw for 
mats and weaves willow baskets. And, O mother, 
he can tell the prettiest stories. I wish you would 
let him come here; won’t you, mother?” 

“Yes ; I have no objection. We will entertain 
him for a day whenever he chooses to come.” 

70 


Dr. Eckharfs Boys 


“I saw him yesterday at Herr Truman’s, and to- 
day he was at Neighbor Spicer’s. Will you let him 
come here to-morrow?” 

“Yes ; it will suit me very well.” 

“Then I will stop on my way to school and tell 
him,” said Ernest, gleefully. 

“Yes, you can, but you must not stay to talk, or 
you will be too late to school ; you will have plenty 
of time to see him in the evening here.” 

The next morning Ernest stopped at the cottage 
door of James Signer and knocked, and, after a 
few minutes, the old man appeared. 

“My mother, the doctor’s wife, said you might 
come to-day and eat at our house. Will you 
come?” 

“Certainly I will, and am thankful to you and 
the good lady. God is good to give me so many 
kind friends.” 

Ernest went to school with the pleasant pros- 
pect of seeing Signer in the afternoon, and, as soon 
as noon came, he ran home to dinner and found the 
old man there. He had come in time for dinner, 
and was at the table in the kitchen, with a good, 
substantial meal before him. 

His clothing, though old and patdhed, was clean, 
and his gray hair neatly brushed. His mild blue 
eyes beamed with kindness and good will to all of 
God’s creatures ; and Ernest could see that his 

manner and appearance had made a favorable im- 

71 


Dr. EchJiarfs Boys 


pression upon liis mother, who was always kind and 
helpful to the poor. 

Signer had been busy all the morning cutting 
wood for kindling the fires, and promised not only 
to make a water-wheel for Ernest, but to tell him 
something of his own boyhood, and the boy could 
scarcely study for thinking of the pleasure in store 
for him. 

At length the school day was over, and he hur- 
ried home, put his books carefully away, as his 
mother always expected him to do, then hurried to 
the room over the carriage house, which overlooked 
the pretty garden, a light, pleasant room w’here har- 
ness, saddles, and other things were kept. 

Signer was there, and had kept his promise, and 
more; for the water-wheel was made, and he was 
at work upon a canoe for Ernest, made from the 
bark of a small tree and with solid ends of wood. 

“You will not forget to tell me of yourself when 
you were a boy like me,” said Ernest. 

“No ; I have been thinking it all over this after- 
noon, as I do many a time when alone, as I am 
most of the time. About an hour’s walk from here 
is the little village of Deerbrook, at the foot of the 
ancient fortress of Whitesteen, which you could see 
from my cottage. In my early days, there were 
many prisoners there in the cells, and over them 
were the pleasant apartments of the officers and 

their families. There were also homes for the sol- 
72 


• Dr. Eckhart's Boys 

diers. There was also a little church and a school- 
house. 

“The school was for the children of the officers, 
but others in the neighborhood ascended the steep 
mountain each day during the school days in sum- 
mer, and shared the instruction. My sister and 
myself went to this school, the teacher for the time 
we attended being an under officer, who had a loud 
voice, and required much respect from the pupils. 
We learned to read and write, had a little instruc- 
tion in arithmetic — nothing like the good chance 
the children of these days have to learn. As we 
could not ascend the hill in winter, we had to be 
satisfied with a few months’ instruction each year.” 

“Did you ever see the prisoners in the fortress?” 
asked Ernest. 

“Yes ; we saw them every day when they walked 
out for exercise.” 

“Why were they prisoners? Did they steal any- 
thing?” 

“No, they were not criminals; they were what is 
called political prisoners. Your father will explain 
that to you better than I can. Many of them were 
well educated gentlemen, real scholars, and some of 
them were handsome, only they were pale and deli- 
cate looking from being in confinement. I remem- 
ber one who was very friendly with us. He told 
us that he was soon to be free, and would leave his 

prison cell forever, and we were too young to under- 
73 


Dr. Echhart's Boys 


stand his meaning. He died eight days after, and 
was buried by torchlight. 

“My father took a schoolmate and' myself to the 
fortress that night, and we stood by a stone wall, 
and were concealed from view by the trees, and 
could see and hear all. It was very solemn, and 
made a great impression upon me.” - 

“Could you see all by the light of the torches?” 

“Yes, as plainly as if it were day. First came 
the torch-bearers, then men carrying the casket, 
then a lady leaning upon the arm of her brother, 
who was an oflicer, and leading by the hand a little 
boy.” 

“Did you ever see or hear of them again?” 

“Never; just think how long ago it has been. 
I was a schoolboy but nine years old, and am now 
over eighty.” 

“Was the fortress better than it is now?” 

“Yes ; it has gone almost to ruin ; but many peo- 
ple come from a distance to see it, and the people 
from the village love to ascend the mountain and 
walk about the beautiful grounds.” 

“I would love to go there,” said Ernest. “Cer- 
tainly a person up there can see a great distance 
over the country.” 

“Yes, I have counted nearly a hundred church 
steeples from the fortress, and our village of 
Schonan looks beautiful, lying in the green valley.” 


74 


Dr. Eckharfs Boys 


“Did you hurt your limbs going up the mountain 
that you have to walk on crutches?” 

“Oh, no ; that was caused by an accident when 
I was overseer of the work people on a large farm 
at Deerbrook. The owner had a little boy who 
often followed me to the stables. Once we had a 
very wicked cow, which even the men of the place 
had to watch to keep out of the way of her horns. 
One day, little Michael was standing with me netfr 
a pen watching little pigs eating apples. One of 
the boys was leading the CO'W by a rope to the 
trough to drink, and the moment she saw Michael 
she broke loose and ran toward him. I had a large 
feed basket in my hand. I rushed forward and held 
it before her eyes, and told Michael to run to the 
lioiise. He did so, and was saved ; but the cow 
tossed the basket aside, threw me down, and 
trampled upon me, hurting both limbs so badly that 
I have had ever after to go on crutches.” 

“Was the farmer good to you because you saved 
his son?” 

“Yes, and I would have had a home with him 
all these years, but he sold his farm and went to 
Berlin to live. But he did not forget me; he gave 
me an annuity of one hundred marks a year, which 
pays the rent of my little room at the button-mak- 
er’s. He got a man to teach me how to plait mats 
and m.ake baskets, and when I can sell them I feel 
very rich. I have never wanted for clothes. When 


Dr. Echhart's Boys 


I do not sell anything I have made, it seems that 
God always supplies the need, for last Christmas, 
the pastor’s wife, bless her, gave me a good, warm 
jacket, and her aunt, that lives at the parsonage, 
gave me two pairs of new woolen stockings. When 
people are so good to me, I should be good to them ; 
and I help all I can by plaiting mats for them and 
making baskets whenever I have the material.” 

After supper. Signer went home, after thanking 
the family for their kindness to him ; and then 
Ernest told his mother and sisters of the early life 
of Signer, and of the old fortress. 

The next day, he came home from school in high 
spirits. 

“To-morrow, our teacher is going to take us to 
the fortress,” he said, the moment he was inside the 
door. 

The children did not know that Herr Meyer had 
this pleasure in store for them, and was only wait- 
ing for a suitable time to visit the fortress. Now 
the time had come, and there was great rejoicing 
in every home that had a pupil in the village school. 
They could talk of nothing else, and the clouds 
were watched anxiously, for they were no’t to go 
unless it should be a fair day. 

Of course, there were people who prophesied rain, 
for the tree frogs were merrier than usual, the wind 
was in the east, and the sun set behind a bank of 
crimson clouds. 

7C 


Dr. EcTcharfs Boys 


Two requests had been made by the teacher, one 
being that each pupil should take a box of luncheon, 
and the other that each should be provided with a 
few pennies. 

Most of the children were sure of having both 
requests granted by their parents, but one boy 
shook his head, with tears in his eyes. 

“What is the matter, Rudolph?” asked Herr 

iMeyer. 

“My mother did not get any work to do this 
week, and will not have any pennies to give me.” 

“Mother,” said Ernest, when telling her of this, 
“may I take five pennies out of my savings bank 
and give to Rudolph, so he can go?” 

“Yes ; I am glad you are willing to help a school- 
mate ; and I will give you three marks that you 
can give the teacher, and ask him to divide it among 
any children that have need of it.” 

Ernest got his money out of his bank and hur- 
ried away to the cottage, and his heart thrilled with 
joy to see the delight with whidh Rudolph and his 
mother received it. Then he went on to the home 
of the teacher, who said he would invest the three 
marks in rolls, cakes, and fruit to help out the 
lunch of those who had brought but little from 
home. 

As soon as Ernest returned, he collected all the 
things he wished to take — an old book, in which to 
press flowers, his pocket-knife, the silver mark his 
77 


Dr. Echliart’s Boys 


father had given him, and a clean handkerchief. 
Adelheid promised to call him in good time. Then 
he went to bed. 

But he did not wait to be called at seven ; he was 
up before six, and thought that half-past seven and 
breakfast were long in coming. 

As soon as it was finished, he helped his mother 
put up his lunch, then bade all good-by as affection- 
ately as if going upon a long journey, and hurried 
away to the schoolhouse, where all were to meet. 

There he found most of the children, with their 
little boxes and baskets, all in great glee over the 
holiday. 

“What did you bring to eat?” asked one fat 
urchin of Ernest. “My mother boiled three eggs 
hard for me, because I like them that way, and 
some white rolls, which she bought just for me.” 

“I have sandwiches made of biscuits and ham, 
which my sister Adelheid made for me, and I have 
cheese and some chocolate cakes,” replied Ernest. 

“I have zweiback and six pieces of sausage,” said 
another boy. 

“I have bread and pickles,” said a pale little girl. 
“I love pickles.” 

While they were talking, the pastor’s wife came 
up with a large dish of boiled ham, cut in thin 
slices, and a basket of buttered biscuits. 

“I remembered my own school days,” she said, 

pleasantly, to the teacher, “and how hungry we 
78 


Br. Ecl-liarl’s Boys 


used to be upou a day’s outing, and hope all the 
children will help themselves to what they wish to 
add to their baskets.” 

This was a great surprise and pleasure, especially 
to the children who had but poor fare, for it was 
decided by the teacher that when they ate the 
lunch they were to sit in a circle under some shady 
tree, the food was to be placed in the center, and 
all were to share it without regard to who brought 
it. 

When all had arrived, the order was given to 
march, and the clear, childish voices, led by Herr 
Meyer, rang out in “Out in the forest gayly we go,” 
the villagers coming to windows and doors to wave 
hands and handkerchiefs and wish them a happy 
holiday. 

The children were allowed to halt in the woods 
to gather fruit and flowers, and the younger ones 
were allowed to rest frequently, generally by a 
brook, that the older ones could amuse themselves, 
and not be impatient to move on. 

About noon, they reached the woods, at the foot 
of the high hill where stood the fortress. 

“Now we will strengthen ourselves with some of 
this good food before attempting to climb the hill,” 
said Herr Mej^er, and, selecting a grassy spot in the 
shade, he told the older girls they could arrange the 
feast, while the boys carried water from the brook 

in the leather cups he had provided. 

79 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 


They were close by the stream, and, although it 
would require many trips to and fro, they had 
plenty of time, and could fake turns in bringing it. 

It was a welcome feast to all, and Herr Meyer 
did his best to make it memorable by being a child 
with them for the one day ; and, after he had rev- 
erently asked a blessing, he told them interesting 
incidents of his childhood, and they listened and ate 
and had a happy time, indeed. 

“We have plenty left for another meal,” said 
Herr Myer when all finished. “We will stop 
here to rest when we come down from the fortress, 
and any one who wishes a sandwich can have it, 
but we will eat our suppers in another woods on our 
way home.” 

This was very satisfactory to the whole school, 
and the next sentence brought smiles of pleasure 
to every face. 

“On our way home,” he said, “we pass through a 
village where a fair is being held, and we will stop 
and look at the pretty things. That was my reason 
for telling you to bring a few pennies. I am sure 
you will wish to buy something either for your- 
selves or to take home to some little brother or sis- 
ter.” 

This was a charming surprise to the children, 
and they immediately commenced planning what 
they would buy, and for whom. 

“I will take an apron to mamma,” said a prac- 
80 


Dr. Echliart’s Boys 

tical little girl. “She cut hers up to make this one 
for me to wear to school.” 

“I will take a new handkerchief to papa,” said 
another. “He gave me all the pennies he had to 
bring with me to-day.” 

“You will get something for yourselves, too, 
won’t you?” asked Ernest. “My father gave me 
a mark to be my very own.” 

“But your father is a doctor, and is rich,” said 
one of the little girls; “my father only mends tubs 
and buckets, and never has much money.” 

The food was again placed in the baskets, and all 
went up the steep hill, the older children helping 
the smaller ones, and, when they got to the top, 
they sat down on the low stone wall, which had 
fallen in many places, and gazed at the ruins of the 
fortress of which they had heard so much. 

The place was of double interest to Ernest from 
having heard Signer describe it, and he looked for 
the place where the church had stood, and, with 
Herr Meyer’s aid, found it, and also the school- 
house. 

He told Herr Meyer of the prisoner’s funeral, 
which Signer had witnessed when a boy, and they 
went to the place where he was buried. The grave 
stones were much sunken, and so covered with moss 
and mold that the names of those who slept below 
were almost destroyed or hidden. 

They then went into the large, empty rooms of 

the fortress, the floors covered with plaster which 
6 81 


Dr. Eckhart's Boys 


had fallen from the ceiling and walls, and the ivy 
which covered the outside peeping in at the high, 
narrow windows. It was an interesting picture of 
silence and desolation, and the children, though 
glad to have seen it, were glad to get out into the 
clear sunlight. 

They went to the spot where the little chapel had 
stood, but only part of the walls remained, and of 
the scboolhouse only broken walls and a stone table, 
at which it was supposed the teacher sat. 

Amid the ruined walls grew vines and bushes, 
and even tall trees, the fresh, green leaves in fine 
contrast to the dark, gray walls. 

The children listened with great interest to the 
teacher as he told them of the former appearance of 
the fortress, as related to him by aged friends ; 
and Ernest could show them the parade ground or 
place where the former residents and prisoners had 
exercised, as described to him by Signer. 

Then they visited the cells where the prisoners 
had languished. The children were awed into silence 
as they descended the steps and entered the dark pas- 
sages which led to them. But Herr Meyer had 
come provided with helps to enable them to see all 
that was to be seen in the fortress. He lighted two 
candles with matches he had brought for this pur- 
[)ose, and, leading the way, the children followed, 
and he told them interesting things of the people 
who had been prisoners, and compared the happy, 
82 


Dr. Dckharfs Boys 

free life of the children with that of these poor cap- 
tives. 

When they returned to the outer air, the chil- 
dren breathed a sigh of relief. They were glad to 
have seen the cells, but appreciated their liberty 
as they had never done until they had seen for 
themselves what life must have been to the poor 
prisoners. 

They were now ready to descend the hill, and, 
when they reached the great tree where they had 
taken dinner, they rested and talked of all they had 
seen. Some of the younger ones were ready for 
sandwiches, which w'ere freely given. Then they 
set out for the walk home, and, in about half an 
hour, reached a village which seemed to be so 
thronged wuth people that the children wondered 
how they would get through the street. 

“We will sit down to rest under this tree,” said 
Herr Meyer, and, taking a place himself, the chil- 
dren gathered about him. 

“Now, I will tell you,” he said, “why I advised 
you to bring some money with you for the fair. It 
is held for the benefit of the poor, and w'hat we buy 
will be a pleasure to us, and will help swell the 
fund that it is hoped will provide comforts for oth- 
ers.” 

The children were, eager to move on, and soon 
reached the village and the building in which the 
fair was held. The teacher had requested them not 
8.3 


Dr. Echhart’s Boys 


to take their money out of their pockets until they 
were ready to buy, as it might be lost, and all had 
obeyed, and had not looked at it from the time they 
left the schoolhouse until they stood at the tables 
wliere the pretty things were for sale. 

The moment permission was given, little hands 
went into pockets and came out holding tight to 
their pennies. All but Ernest ; his pocket-book 
was gone. 

Tears filled his eyes ; he was terribly disap- 
pointed, and grew more so as he saw his school- 
mates enjoying th’e sweets their pennies had 
bought. 

He put his hands in his pockets again and again, 
and had given up the search for his pocket-book as 
hopeless, when Herr Meyer, who was standing near 
him, and to whom he had told his loss, advised him 
to feel in his pocket again. 

Ernest obeyed, and, to his great surprise, found 
a silver mark. His tears were now exchanged for 
smiles, and his money for things he had admired, 
but did not hope to possess. 

It was a happy time for the little people, and, 
when they saw all that was to be seen, and had 
spent the last penny of their money, they left the 
fair and kept on their way home, stopping long 
enough on the edge of a woods to eat supper. 

“Just see what I bought,” cried Ernest, the mo- 
ment he entered the room where his parents and 
84 


Dr. Echhart’s Boys 

sisters were eating supper, “but I lost my pocket- 
book.” 

“I am sorry for that,” said Frau Eckhart ; “how 
did you lose it? Did you have it out of your pocket 
before you got to the fair?” 

“No ; the teacher said we must not take our 
money out until he told us ; then we would not run 
the risk of losing it.” 

“But your silver mark was in your pocket-book 
when you left home. Why was it not lost at the 
same time?” 

“I don’t know. I guess it fell out in my pocket 
before I lost my purse.” 

This reply did not seem to satisfy the father and 
mother, but they said nothing, but listened to his 
account of the pleasures of the day, and the won- 
ders of the fortress and the fair, and heard the list 
of the articles he had bought. 

“A candy pear, a candy dog, six cakes, some 
chocolates, a toy policeman’s rattle, and a lot of 
tin soldiers.” 

He was telling of things the other children had 
bought, when they heard a step upon the porch, and 
a man from the village stood in the open doorway. 

“Here is your purse,” he said to Ernest ; “I 
found it before the schoolhouse door, and waited 
until you got back from the fortress.” 

“How did you know it was Ernest’s purse?” 
asked the doctor. 


85 


Dr. EcTcharfs Boys 


“Because his name is in it.” 

“Yes,” said Frau Eckhart, “Helena ?ave it to 
him for his birthday, and wrote his name in it.” 

“Now, you see,” cried Ernest, when the man 
had gone, after receiving hearty thanks for his 
kindness, “I did lose it, and I told the truth. The 
money must have dropped out of it into my pocket.” 

“It would be entirely possible for that to happen, 
my son,” said Dr. Eckhart, “but see, here is the sil- 
ver mark I gave you in it.” 

“O father,” cried Ernest, his eyes full of tears, 
“I did find the mark in my pocket, but don’t know 
how it got there.” 

The father and mother looked at each other, but 
said no more. Ernest was tired from his long 
walk and the excitement of the day, and they would 
wait until he was rested before speaking again of it. 

That night, after he had said his prayers, and 
was resting upon his pillow, his mother went as 
usual to his room to see if he was comfortable, and 
to kiss him good-night. 

She had not intended saying anything to him 
about the purse and money, but he noticed her 
anxious face, and said, in trembling voice, “I can- 
not tell how the mark got into my pocket, mother, 
but it was there, and I bought the things with it.” 

But this assurance did not lighten her spirits, 
and, after bidding him good-night, she went into 
the ofiice to talk with his father about it. 

80 


Dr. EcJcharfs Boys 

She was scarcely seated when there was a tap 
upon the office door, and Herr Meyer entered. 

“I have called to say that I have done some- 
thing that you may not approve,” said he, as he took 
the chair they offered. “Your son Ernest lost his 
purse, and was so disappointed that I dropped a 
mark in his pocket as a surprise to him. One of 
the villagers tells me that he found the purse, with 
his mark in it, and, fearing that it would get the 
boy in trouble with you, I thought it better to come 
and tell you.” 

“It was very kind in you,” said Dr. Eckhart, 
“and we thank you, but it would have been better 
to have told Ernest ; it would have saved us much 
anxiety.” 

“A teacher has to be on his guard not to excite 
jealousy among his pupils,” replied Herr Meyer, 
“but I feel that it was a mistake in me to give it 
to him secretly.” 

“You must let Ernest give you his mark for the 
one you gave him, and I will tell him in the morn- 
ing how the other go't in his pocket.” 

“I had intended it as a gift,” said Herr Meyer, 
“but if you prefer that I should take it, I will do 
so.” 

It was with lighter hearts that the parents had 
listened to the explanation of the affair, and they 
thanked Herr Meyer again when he arose to go for 
coming to tell them. 


87 


CHAPTER VII. 


The Home in a Wagon. 

“There comes another one of those traveling tin- 
menders ; he has his tools in his hand,” said Ernest, 
one morning, while looking from the breakfast-room 
window ; “they ought to be driven out of the coun- 
try.” 

“Don’t be so hasty, my son,” said Dr. Eckhart, 
laying down his paper to look out ; “it would be sad 
if there were no good men among the tin-menders.” 

“Ernest is thinking of the one who mended our 
wash-boiler. Don’t you remember, father?” asked 
Helena. 

“No, I cannot say that I do; how was it?” 

“A tall dark man came along one day and asked 
mother if she had any tinware to mend. The wash- 
boiler had a small hole in it, which w'^as kept mended 
with a piece' of dough, as mother did not care to 
send the boiler to the city to have such a small leak 
stopped, nor to send for a man to come out here to 
mend it. The man held it up to the light, and then 
asked for water to try it. Mother told Adelheid'to 
get some, and when it came and he poured It into 
the boiler it ran out in several places. He said he 
would take it to his wagon, which was in the woods 
88 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 


near the schoolhouse, and mend it, and she allowed 
it to go. He did not bring it back until evening; 
he had put a copper bottom in it, and charged just 
what she paid for it when new.” 

“Did mother paj^ it?” asked Ernest. “Yes, and 
the next day she saw a notice in the paper warning 
housekeepers against a traveling tinner who carried 
a small awl in his sleeve with which he pierced 
holes in tinware given him to mend.” 

“But we should not condemn the whole class be- 
cause one of them acts dishonestly,” remarked Dr. 
Idckhart ; “if one boy plays truant at school should 
we think all boys truants? That would be very un- 
just, but no more so than to condemn all tinners.” 

Meantime the man had reached the door, and 
rung the bell. 

“I don’t like his looks,” said Ernest, who was 
looking from the window; “I should not like io 
meet him in a woods at night.” 

“lie only asks for work,” said Adelheid, “as any- 
body must do who cannot live without it ; I do hope 
mother lias something that needs mending.” 

But there was nothing, as the maid told him, who 
answered the bell, and he turned away with such a 
look of distress that even Ernest felt sorry for him. 

He had reached the gate, when he noticed the 
sign upon the doctor’s office, and came back to the 
door, where Thekla was yet standing. 

“Does a doctor live hero?” he asked. 

89 


Dr. Echhart’s Boys 


“Y’es ; Dr. Eckhart lives here.” 

“Is he in?” 

“Yes ; but in half an hour he will go out to visit 
his patients.” 

“Oh, if I could only see him but a moment,” said 
the man ; “I have a sick child. Maybe he will be 
willing to come and see her.” 

Dr. Eckhart heard the words, and, opening the 
door, he stepped out, followed by Adelheid and Er- 
nest. 

“Doctor,” said the man, “my only child is ill, and 
my wife is sick from anxiety and watching. Will 
you go with me to the wagon?” 

“Certainly I will, and, Ernest, you can go with 
me ; perhaps I may need something that you can 
come back to the office for.” 

The three left quickly, and Adelheid looked after 
them, wishing that she could be one of the party. 
On the way, the distressed father explained that his 
little daughter had been sick five days, growing 
worse each day. “And since yesterday she has not 
known her mother or me,” and tears stood in his 
black eyes. 

They soon reached the wagon, in the woods back 
of the sclioolhouse, the same place in which the 
one had stood belonging to the tinner who had acted 
so dishonestly in regard to the wash-boiler. 

The poor mother met them at the door, at the 
end of the wagon, and a look of hope came to her 
90 


Dr. Eckharfs Boys 


face when she saw it was a doctor who had come 
with her husband. 

Dr. Eckhart stepped into the wagon, and Ernest 
remained outside, looking at the traveling abode, 
lie noted the blooming oleander which stood by the 
one window, and showed its bright, pink blossoms 
through the snowy lace curtain. On the sill were 
cups in which were blooming wild flowers. 

In a little while Dr. Eckhart came out, and Er- 
nest saw at a glance that he considered the child 
past all help that any earthly physician could give. 

“I will go to my oflice for the medicine,” said his 
father, but I wish you to go to the village and get 
some ice ; put some straw in the basket to keep it 
from melting.” 

Ernest hurried away, his heart filled with sym- 
pathy for the sick child and shame that he had 
spoken against the sorrow-stricken father. 

“Who does the doctor want the ice for?” asked 
the owner of the ice-house. 

“The sick child of a traveling tinner, who has his 
wagon in the woods back of the schoolhouse.” 

“I wouldn’t bother with them if I were the doc- 
tor ; they are worse than Gypsies, these Bohemians, 
and are all cheats.” 

“But they love their children as well as do other 
fathers and mothers.” 

“Maybe so,” replied the man, so unbelievingly 
that Ernest was tempted to tell him he would not 
91 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 


take liis ice, but would go to another ice-man for it, 
who was not so heartless. But his father had told 
him to bring it as soon as possible, so he packed it 
in the straw, paid the man, and hurried back to the 
wagon, just as his father came with the medicine. 

“I doubt if the child can swallow it ; she is ver^ 
ill. But I must do all I can for her,” he said. “You 
can stop outside and break the ice in small pieces.” 

The father was in the door of the wagon, and 
looked glad when he saw them coming. He stepped 
down and allowed the doctor to enter, and soon 
Ernest followed with the ice. It was his first view 
of the inside of the wagon, and he saw with inter- 
est how very many things could be put in small 
space by one who was neat and orderly. The wagon 
was divided by a curtain into two rooms, and m the 
first one, on a small, white-robed bed lay the sick 
child. She was a lovely little girl, about two years 
of age, with tiny golden rings of hair clustering 
over Jier pale forehead. 

The mother took the medicine from the doctor’s 
hand and tried to put it in the child’s mouth, but 
the little pearly teeth were pressed fast together, 
and would not allow the tip of the spoon to enter. 

At length, after patient trial, she succeeded in 
getting a few drops into the mouth, and hope began 
to fill her heart. The doctor gave her a small piece 
of the ice, which was eagerly received by the child, 
and she evidently craved more, and it was given 
freely. 


92 


Dr. Eclcharfs Boys 


“Father,” said Ernest, “would mother’s black- 
berry cordial be good for the little girl?” 

“It might give her a little strength,” said the doc- 
tor, who saw that nothing would help her perma- 
nently, or hurt her, for her hours were numbered. 

“May I run and get some?” 

‘‘Certainly you may ; and ask your mother to send 
a full bottle. It will strengthen the weary mother 
if she will take a tablespoonful now and then.” 

The grateful look in the mother’s eyes showed 
that she appreciated the kindness, and Ernest hur- 
ried away, glad to be helpful, as was every member 
of Dr. Eckhart’s family. 

Frau Eckhart got out one of the largest bottles 
of the cordial she had, and Ernest ran back with it. 

His father had gone to visit other patients, leav- 
ing word to give the child a few drops of the cordial, 
'and advising the mother to take some as soon as it 
came. This she did, and Ernest was glad to see a 
faint color come to her pale cheeks. He waited to 
see the few drops given to the child, then went 
home. 

That evening, after Dr. Eckhart’s office hours 
were over, he went to see the poor family in the 
wagon ; but the little patient needed no further 
help. She had gone home, and the father and 
mother sat beside her, gazing upon the peaceful 
face. 

The physician’s kind heart throbbed with sym- 
pathy for these poor travelers, strangers in a 
93 


Dr. Echliarfs Boys 


strange land, and, telling the mother that Frau 
Eckhart would come immediately to see her, he 
went home. 

That afternoon had been a busy one for Frau Eck- 
hart, but that did not prevent her from visiting 
those in trouble. But first, she realized that the 
cshausted parents needed strengthening food, and 
the evening meal for her own family being ready, 
she set a pot of good, hot tea upon a waiter, to- 
gether with a share of all the food upon her own 
table, and Thekla was pleased to be the bearer of 
it to the wagon. She also took the message that 
Frau Eckhart would be there in less than an hour, 
and Thekla would come with her to bring back the 
waiter and dishes. 

As soon as tea was finished, Frau Eckhart went 
to see the pastor’s wife, and the two went to do all 
they could for the dead and the living. 

They were grieved to see that the mother had not 
touched the food, nor shed tears ; her grief was too 
great for that relief to an over-tried heart. 

They gave her what comfort they could, and pre- 
vailed upon her to lie down in the adjoining room. 

Then the_ pastor’s wife went home and returned 
with a little white dress of her youngest darling’s, 
ill which the frail form of the little one was ar- 
rayed, and she lay upon her white couch as if in a 
sweet sleep. 


04 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 


“If you will speak a good word for us to the pas- 
tor that our child may have Christian burial, we 
will^pray for you all the rest of our lives,” said the 
father, when the ladies, having done all that could 
be done at that time, were about to go home. 

“I will, indeed,” replied the pastor’s wife, and 
you may feel assured that you will have your wish.” 

“But we are Catholics,” said the man, anxiously ; 
“you are all of different belief; you cannot -let my 
child have place in consecrated ground.” 

“My husband will see that the little one has a 
pleasant spot in our village cemetery,” said Fran 
Eckhart ; where our own children would be laid, 
there shall your little daughter find a resting-place.” 

“Oh, God is good to us — is good,” said the man. 
reverently, and he made the sign of the cross upon 
bis breast. 

The Eckhart young people were deeply impressed 
by all they heard of the poor travelers, and each 
wished to do something to help. 

“What can I do, mother?” asked little Anna. 

“You can take a bouquet of rosebuds to put 
upon the little coffin ; there are some lovely white 
ones in bloom now in the garden.” 

This was a new interest in the child’s life ; she 
looked forward to the morrow when she could go to 
the wagon carrying the rosebuds. 

’rhe children could think of nothing else that 
evening than the sorrowing strangers, and when 
95 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 


lliey knelt in praj’er before retiring, Dr. Eekhart 
added to his petition, “Father in heaven, look with 
compassion ni)ou the lonely and afflicted ones, who 
feel that they have lost their all ; comfort them with 
the assurance that their beloved child has found a 
home with her Saviour, where there will be no more 
sickness, no more pain, and where they will see her 
again, and will shed no more tears, for God will 
wipe away all tears from our eyes.” 

As it was necbssary that the tinner should move 
on to another village as soon as possible that he 
might obtain work, it was decided that the funeral 
should be at nine o’clock the next morning. 

The pastor would preach a sermon over tlie re- 
mains, and the school-children were given a half- 
holiday that they might attend the services in a 
body. 

At that hour the church bell rang out, and the 
pastor and Dr. Eekhart left the church followed by 
the school-children, walking two together, each bear- 
ing rosebuds. The little coffin was taken from the 
wagon and borne by four boys to the church, fol- 
lowed by the pastor and doctor, then the parents, 
then the school-children, and these by all the vil- 
lagers who could leave their work or homes to 
come. 

When they reached the church the casket, covered 
v.ith rosebuds, was placed in front of the pulpit, the 
pastor preached a comforting sermon, and the 
9G 


Dr. Eckharfs Boys 


school-children sang in sweet accord, “Suffer little 
children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for 
of such is the kingdom of heaven.” • 

As the clear voices rose to the beautiful words of 
our Saviour, tears came to the relief of the poor 
mother, and, leaning her head upon her husband’s 
shoulder, she wept without restraint, and Dr. Eck- 
liart was glad that she could have this great relief. 

Near a large rose-bush in full bloom the little 
one was lowered into her grave, then all turned 
away as soon as it was filled. The father and 
mother thanked the pastor and the doctor for their 
great kindness, and, after the custom of their coun- 
try, kissed their hands, and the hands of the pas- 
tor’s wife and Frau Eckhart. They had not ex- 
pected such warm sympathy and Christian love 
from people to whom they were entire strangers. 

When the villagers left the churchyard, the fa- 
ther and mother knelt by the grave of their child 
and prayed, and said farewell with many tears, then 
arose, and at the gate turned to take a last look at 
the little mound. 

No gravestone marks the resting-place of the lit- 
tle stranger, but Dr. Eckhart’s children and others 
in the village keep it each summer sweet with fresh 
flowers, and none of them will ever forget the fu- 
neral of the traveling tin-man’s little daughter, nor 
the words the pastor said to them that morning. 


7 


97 


CHAPTER VIII. 


A Visit to a Forester’s Cottage. 

The Christmas holidays were coming, the happi- 
est time of all the happy year to the Eckhart chil- 
dren. 

They had thought Rosehill the most beautiful of 
homes during the pleasant summer, but found that 
winter had its beauties and pleasures, also. Al- 
though the flowers, and foliage, and soft, green grass 
had lived their day, and snow reigned in their 
stead, within the house all was warmth and com- 
fort. Soft carpets covered the floors, heavy cur- 
tains shut out the cold night winds, but in day- 
time were drawn to allow the sun to visit all the 
rooms, and flowers on the window-sills sent forth 
fragrance. 

Helena’s health had improved greatly in the coun- 
try air, and she bade fair to be a healthy w’oman, 
which was great happiness to her parents, and for 
which they were very grateful. 

From the beginning of winter the sisters had been 
busy making gifts for their father and mother and 
brothers, all done secretly, that the pleasure to re- 
ceivers and givers might be greater. Frau Eck- 
hart gave advice, when needed, in regard to the most 
suitable gifts for the boys. Ernest was fond of 
98 


Dr. Eckharfs Boys 


skating and sledding, so warm mittens, a comforter, 
and a fur cap with ear-covers would be very wel- 
come. Henry was fond of books, and the girls could 
use the pocket-money set aside for gifts for him in 
that way, and Richard loved games. 

These were happy evenings in the comfortable 
home, when all were gathered about the table in 
the center of the room, and when the door of the 
office opened and their father came in with a book 
in hand to read aloud, their happiness was com- 
plete. 

The holidays commenced the day before Christ- 
mas ; Richard and Henry would come the evening 
before, and have a whole day to help Ernest and 
the girls trim the Christmas tree to be in readiness 
for the great day. 

They came in good time, bearing several odd- 
shaped packages, which were kept in their over- 
coat pockets until they could be secreted in their 
own rooms. When all gathered about the supper- 
table, Richard and Henry were told the good news 
that their Uncle and Aunt Bernhard were to pass a 
day of the Christmas holidays at Rosehill, and with 
them would come the cousins, Mary and Melanie. 

The next day all the young people went to the 
woods belonging to Rosehill, to get a young fir-tree, 
and ground-pine to decorate the rooms. Hans, the 
office boy, went with them, and enjoyed the outing 
as much as any of them, and made himself useful in 
99 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 


helping to drag the tree home and in finding more 
of the pine than any one of them. 

They found dinner ready when they returned, 
and with eyes bright and cheeks ruddy from exer- 
cise in the open air, they gathered about the table 
with good appetites for the plain but well-prepared 
food. 

As soon as they finished, the fir-tree was taken 
to the library, and Richard, as the eldest of the 
children, had the honor of putting it in position, 
then all assisted in dressing it, Ernest, very proud 
that he, for the first time, was old enough to help, 
being especially privileged to put the angel with out- 
stretched wings upon the very top of the tree, Rich- 
ard and Henry holding the step-ladder securely, 
that he might not fall. 

It was very interesting work to tie the silver and 
gilt balls, and the pretty ornaments, and the tiny 
tapers upon it; and it was an extremely beautiful 
tree when finished, and they were proud of it. 

Then came tea-time, and after it the decorating 
of the rooms with the winter-green, and ground- 
pine, and red berries. 

It was bedtime before all was done, and Frau 
Eckhart allowed them cakes and confections, some- 
thing not allowed at night, as a rule, but Christmas 
comes but once a year. 

The next morning all were up a little before the 

usual time, and parents and children gathered about 
100 


Dr. EcJcharfs Boys 


the Christmas tree and a Christmas carol was sung, 
a hymn of praise, that “unto us a Saviour is oorn.’’ 
Then the gifts, which lay upon the green bank at 
the foot of the tree, were distributed, none of them 
costly, but all expressing the love of the giver. 

Then came breakfast, and after it the service in 
the church, to which every member of the house- 
hold went, not excepting Thekla and Hans. The 
pastor’s sermon was one that the youngest of them 
could understand, and the Christmas hymns were 
familiar to them all. 

The happy day went swiftly by, and the evening 
was passed in the library, where the tapers on the 
tree glowed brightly. The new books were read, 
the gifts inspected anew, and Ernest, who had sent 
his last year’s toys to three of his schoolmates whose 
parents were not able to give them presents, felt as 
happy in having given them as he was in his own 
possessions. 

Nor did Frau Eckhart forget the poor on that 
happy day. Christmas dinners were sent to the 
homes of Thekla and Hans, and they were allowed 
to go from church after service and enjoy it with 
their relatives. 

The next day the children were surprised to see 
a large wood-sled drawn by two fat horses stop be- 
fore their gate. The driver, a tall, strong-looking 
man, with black hair mixed with gray, tied his 
horses to the post, and knocked at the office. 

101 


Dr. Eckharfs Boys 

Dr. Eckhart was in, and invited him to enter and 
take a seat. 

“I came to see you, doctor, about my hand,” he 
said, taking a handkerchief, in which it was bound, 
from it ; “I wounded it in firing off a rifle ; it does 
not pain much, but I wish to be sure that it will 
not be any worse than it is now.” 

Dr. Eckhart examined it carefully, saw it was 
only a flesh-wound, which with care would be well 
in a few days, and, taking a box of salve from one 
of the shelves in his medicine-case, he bound some 
of it on the wound. 

“What is the charge?” asked the man, grateful 
for the kindness. 

“Oh, nothing, it is but a trifling service 1 have 
done you ; these are Christmas times, and 1 will 
make you a present of the box of salve.” 

“Thank you, thank you, doctor; I feel grateful to 
you for relieving my mind about the wound, and 
you have added to your kindness by giving the salve. 
My name is Max Bruner; I live in the forest a few 
miles away, and have brought a load of wood to the 
pastor in the village. My sled is now empty, and if 
your two boys that I saw at the window when I 
came up the path would like to see how a forester 
lives, I shall be glad to take them home with me, 
if you will let them go.” 

“I am perfectly willing, as I am sure their mother 
will be, and will tell the boys of it,” 

102 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 


He stepped to the library door and told Richard 
and Henry to come in. 

They obeyed promptly, and their father intro- 
duced them to their visitor, who gave them the in- 
vitation. 

“I have only a sled,” he added, but the sleighing 
is fine, and my ’wife will rejoice to see you, for 
sometimes for weeks together, in winter, we see no 
one but each other to speak to.” 

The boys showed their delight in receiving the in- 
vitation, and ran to ask Frau Eckhart’s consent, 
which was freely given, and, putting on their ove *- 
coats and gloves, the boys were ready for the trip, 
went out with the "forester, and got on the sled. 

The sisters looked from the window and waved 
their handkerchiefs as the fine horses sped away, 
the bells jingling merrily. The snow glistened in 
the rays of the sun, and when they reached the for- 
est, the boys thought they had never seen a more 
beautiful sight than the ice-coated branches, which 
glistened as if set with diamonds. 

The forester entertained them with, stories of the 
hunt, and many spots they passed served as a 
background for some exploit in his life, for he had 
lived from childhood in the same place. 

The wonderful intelligence of his pointer dog 
was a favorite theme, and the boys, who loved dogs, 
were glad they were to have the pleasure of seeing 
it. 


103 


Dr. Echhart’s Boys 


They drove for some time through the forest be- 
fore they came to a clearing, in the center of which 
stood his cottage, a really pretty and romantic-look- 
ing place, as he had built it after a picture he had 
once seen of a cottage in Switzerland. 

It was different from any the boys had ever seen, 
and there was no dwelling in the village of Scho- 
nan so pretty. 

It was sheltered from the north winds by great 
oak-trees, and to the south and east the lawn, gar- 
den, and fields received the full rays of the sun. Be- 
tween the trunks of the trees on the west could be 
seen a pretty arbor on the banks of a stream, which 
in summer went sparkling on its way to the sea. 

Over the entrance to the cottage was a deer’s 
head, carved in wood, but wearing the antlers of a 
real deer, and, upon entering, the boys saw many 
more evidences of the occupation of their host, for 
trophies of the hunt were to be seen on all sides. 

The walls were decorated with pictures of deer, 
some with great antlers, others with half-grown 
ones, and others represented the mother doe and 
her fawn. In a glass case were stuffed wild birds, 
little animals which inhabit the woods and waters : 
a heron, or kingfisher, an owl, a wild duck, and sev- 
eral small wild birds ; then a weasel, ferret, marten, 
and in a separate case an eagle with outstretched 
wings. 


104 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 


Besides these lifeless but interesting things there 
w as a badger, a parrot, and a raven that was perch- 
ed on the back of a chair and was eyeing the visitors 
curiously. 

Frau Bruner, a cheerful, kind-hearted woman, 
welcomed the boys cordially, gave them seats by 
the blazing wood fire upon the hearth, and after 
chatting a few moments, went to the kitchen to pre- 
pare the best the house afforded for dinner, leaving 
them to the care of the forester, who gave them a 
history of each of his pets. 

When they returned to their chairs by the fire, 
the parrot came and sat upon his shoulder, and the 
badger rolled itself in a ball at his feet. 

“They are all here except my dog and my young- 
est pet” ; and at that moment Frau Bruner came in 
followed by a beautiful fawn. She put a piece of 
bread in her husband’s hand, he softly whistled, 
and the fawui came and ate it. 

Richard and Henry were surprised and delighted 
with the tameness and beauty of the gentle creat- 
ure ; it was too timid to go nearer to them, but with 
its master, who had cared for it and petted it from 
the time it was a week old, it was loving and trust- 
ful. Before they were invited out to dinner they 
heard the baying of a dog, and with the foreste: 
went out on the porch to see the pointer, which was 
returning from a hunt in the forest with one of the 
forester’s men. 


105 , 


Dr. Echhart's Boys 


It, too, was rejoiced to see its master, and tho 
boj’s thought they had never seen a more intelli- 
gent dog ; but the fawn was the favorite of all the 
pets. 

“How did you catch it?” asked Henry. 

“Its mother was caught in a snare by a poacher, 
and the timid little creature would have starved 
had I not found it and brought it home.” 

“Are there poachers in this forest?” asked Rich- 
ard, in surprise. 

“Yes, more than enough ; I only wish I could 
catch them. I would see that they would find im- 
prisonment not so pleasant as stealing deer and 
other animals.” 

“Do they shoot them?” 

“No, very few of them have weapons, but they 
set snares and catch deer and rabbits ; and watch 
as I and my wood-choppers may, they always es- 
cape us. But now I must go and see to my horses ; 
will you go with me?” 

The boys were very willing, and followed the for- 
ester, the pointer and fawn following, and crossed 
the back yard to a stable with loft overhead con- 
taining hay. 

They noticed that the horses, too, were pets, and 
neighed with pleasure the moment they heard their 
master’s footsteps. When he went in their stalls 
they rubbed their foreheads against his shoulder, as 
he spoke in gentle tones to them. 

106 


Dr. Eckhart's Boys 


They had just left the stable when Frau Bruner 
'ailed them to dinner, and they went in. 

The table was set in the warm, light kitchen, and 
covered with a snow-white cloth. A huge bowl of 
dried-pea soup was smoking upon it, also a roast of 
venison, and potatoes, and gravy, good brown bread, 
butter, and coffee. 

“This is hunters’ fare, and I hope you will en- 
joy it,” said Herr Bruner, after a blessing was 
asked upon the food ; and Richard and Henry, who 
had been all morning in the open air, thought it one 
of the best dinners they ever ate. 

In the afternoon they sat by the fire in the par- 
lor and talked, Frau Bruner with her knitting in 
hand, taking part in the conversation and giving 
many incidents of her early life as a woodman’s 
daughter. 

A large plate' of red apples was brought in by 
the old serving-woman, who had a home with these 
kind people. With the apples was a waiter of 
cracked walnuts and hickory-nuts, and sharp nails 
to remove the kernels. They all ate and threw the 
shells into the fire; but the apple-pairings were 
given, bit by bit, to the fawn, waiting by its mas- 
ter’s chair. 

The short winter day was drawing to a close 
and the forester went out to have the horses put 
to the sled to take the visitors home. 


107 


Dr. Eckhart's Boys 


A basket of fine apples and another of nuts were 
already on the sled when it came to the door, a 
present from Frau Bruner to the doctor’s family. 

The boys took leave of her with hearty thanks for 
her kind hospitality, and were cordially invKed to 
come again. They stepped upon the sled, Herr Bru- 
ner spoke cheerily to the horses, and they sped away 
toward the road that led to Schonan. 



CHAPTER IX. 


The Result of a Blow. 

Richard and Henry had noticed that a pile of 
hay and a box of salt were on the sled, but 
they asked no questions in regard to them, knowing 
that when the time came their entertainer would 
tell them what he brought those articles for. 

“Perhaps you have noticed that I am taking you 
a different route through the forest, but it will 
bring us out on the road to Schonan,” he said, after 
a time. “We would not come this way if it were 
dark, for it is a difficult road to keep track of, if 
not light enough to see the landmarks ; but I am 
bringing you this way that you may see the deer 
feeding.” 

The boys were highly pleased to hear this ; they 
had not expected it in the program for their 
day’s visit. 

After driving some distance they came to an 
open space in which stood a shed. Before it the 
forester spread the hay, and sprinkled salt upon it ; 
then he told the boys to step into the shed where 
they could see and not be seen and they would see 
the deer, and he and his horses went behind a 
rock. In about a quarter of an hour they heard a 
109 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 

soft rustle and saw the head of a deer. It drew 
cautiously toward the hay and began to eat ; an- 
other deer appeared, and another, until the boys 
counted twenty about the food. It was a new 
sight to them, and they saw with what satisfaction 
the animals enjoyed the sweet-smelling hay. 

The boys now knew why the bells were not on 
the horses, as in the morning drive ; quietude was 
necessary if one wished to see the timid animals ; 
but before they finished the hay, the silence was 
broken by the report of a rifle. 

“It is a miserable poacher,” said the forester, 
angrily, as he stepped from his hiding-place and 
saw the frightened deer fleeing. “I must catch 
him if I can. You boys will have to excuse me 
from taking you home; it' is not more than a mile 
through the forest to the road to Schonan. Just 
follow the sled track I made this morning in goaig 
there; I went this way and you will see no other 
track to confuse you.” 

This was said while he was hurriedly tying his 
horses to a tree; then he ran away in the direction 
from whence came the sound of the gun ; and the 
boys watched until he was out of sight, — tJieu took 
their way to the village. 

It was a strange experience to the city boys to 
find themselves alone in a great forest, but they 
were not the least afraid. They had confidence in 
110 


I)r. Eckhart’s Boys 

the forester’s word that they would find their way, 
and that nothing would harm them. 

Their only fear was that something would hap- 
pen him should he get in trouble with the poacher. 

They walked on, whistling cheerily, and it was 
beginning to grow twilight when they heard their 
whistling answered by a voice. 

They stopped and listened and heard the sound 
of pieces of wood broken in pieces, and following 
the sound, saw a ragged boy getting wood for the 
fire. 

“Was it you who called?” asked Richard, “did 
you want us?” 

“No, I didn’t want you, but I was glad to hear 
you whistling, it didn’t seem so lonesome.” 

“Do you live here in the forest?” 

“Yes ; over in that direction,” and he pointed to 
the left of the track the boys were following. “We 
found a cabin in a clearing and we are living in 
it ; mother is sick, and we have nothing to eat, and 
father is away trying to get something for us.” 

“Nothing to eat !” The boys’ hearts throbbed 
with pity for the thin, pale boy, whose whole ap- 
pearance proved that he was telling the truth. 

“I wish we had brought the apples and nuts off 
the sled ; the forester gave them to us. We forgot 
them, or we could have had them for you.” 

“I wish you had brought them,” said the boy, 
earnestly. 


in 


Dr. EchhaiDs Boys 


“While we were standing by the sled listening 
and waiting, thinking Herr Bruner might come 
back to us, it is a wonder he did not think to get 
the things off the sled,” said Henry. 

“But we did not think, so have nothing to give 
these poor people except the few cakes in our 
pockets that Frau Bruner gave us to eat on our 
way home.” I 

The boy’s eyes looked so wistful that Henry 
took out his paper of cakes and gave them to him. 

“They are so good,” he said, as he devoured 
them ; ‘T wish mother had some.” 

“How far is it to where you live?” asked Rich- 
ard. 

“Not far,” replied the boy, eagerly, “will you go 
and give your cakes to mother?” 

The boys saw that it was growing dark in the 
forest ; but this was a case of need, and their train- 
ing from childhood had been to help any one in 
need, if in their power to do so. 

They followed the boy, and he took them to the 
most miserable home they had ever seen ; a cabin 
almost in ruins. The shingles were off the roof in 
places, and rags and paper filled in the spaces 
where glass had once been. The only gleam of 
comfort was the sticks burning in the cracked 
stove, but w'hich made but little warmth in the 
room. 


112 


Dr. EchharVs Boys 


Upon a miserable bed, covered by a ragged quilt, 
lay the sick mother. A girl of about ten years of 
age was nursing a puny baby, and two little girls 
were playing on the floor, and ran frightened to 
their mother when Richard and Henry entered. 

Richard divided his five cakes, giving two to 
the mother, and resolved to tell his parents of these 
poor people as soon as they got home. 

“We must go now, as quickly as we can,” he 
said. “I am afraid we will not find our way to 
the village.” 

“Martin will show you the shortest way out to 
the road,” said the mother, and the boy who had 
laid down his armload of wood back of the stove 
was quick to obey. He got his old cap again from 
the nail, and they set out. 

On the way, he told them of the real distress in 
the cab.in. His father had come to the forest hop- 
ing to get work as a woodchopper, but Herr Brunei- 
had workmen enough, with whom he was ac- 
quainted, and not knowing the poor man, interested 
himself no further in the matter. 

Then he tried to get work from neighboring 
farmers, but was not needed, and not being able to 
pay for the rent of the cottage on the edge of the 
forest, the owner had made him leave it, and took 
all his poor furniture until he should be able to 
pay it. 


8 


11.3 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 


They were thus compelled to take shelter in the 
cabin which had been unoccupied for years, and 
abandoned because considered unfit to live in. 

Martin conducted them to the road, and the boys 
invited him to go home with them unless he thought 
his mother would be anxious. 

“Oh, no; I am often in the forest until late, 
getting wood; it burns away so quickly in the 
cracked stove.” he said. 

Oh, how bright and comfortable looked Rosehill 
when they reached it, — ^the lamps lighted upon the 
tea-table, around which the family was gathered. 

Doctor Eckhart had just finished telling his wife 
and children of an adventure he had met with 
on his way home from visiting distant patients. 
He was driving slowly along the edge of the forest 
when a wild-looking man rushed out, grasped the 
bridle, and stopped the horse. 

“Give me money, or I will take it from you !” 
he cried in a harsh voice as he took the doctor by 
the arm as if to drag him from the carriage. 

The doctor seized his cane which leaned against 
the seat beside him, and struck the man on the 
cheek; the blow cut the flesh and the blood flowed 
freely. 

The man fell on his knees as if stupified by the 
force and suddenness of the blow, and the doctor 
drove rapidly home. 


114 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 

“Oh, what a narrow escape ; he might have 
killed you,” said Frau Eckhart. 

“What happened you, father?” asked Henry, as 
he and Richard stepped in the room, followed by 
Martin. 

“Your father came near being robbed in the 
forest, and might have lost bis life ; oh, how thank- 
ful we should be to our. dear heavenly Father who 
preserved him. But whom have you brought with 
you?” she asked, as her glance fell upon Martin. 

The boys told the story of their call at the 
cabin, and Frau Eckhart went to the kitchen and 
told Thekla to set him a good and plentiful meal, 
while she filled a basket with food for him to 
take home to the poor family. 

Adelheid got together, under her mother’s direc- 
tion, several warm garments that Anna had out- 
grown for Martin’s little sisters, and Helena gave 
Martin a pair of warm mittens she had knitted. 

“Oh, mother, let me give them something,” said 
Ernest, “please do.” 

“Yes, certainly, you may,” said Frau Eckhart, 
and Ernest ran up to his room and got a box in 
which he put four candy dogs, a lot of tin soldiers, 
a tin whistle, three tin horses, gaily painted, and a 
number of marbles. 

These were toys he had laid aside several years 
before, having new ones each Christmas, and 


115 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 


was glad to think of the pleasure they would give 
to children who had none. 

“May Martin have the shoes and the jacket that 
are too small for me?” he asked. 

“Yes, and your last winter’s overcoat, — but he 
cannot carry them all.” 

“I will come back for them,” said Martin, eager- 
ly, and just then the door-bell rang and Thekla 
went to see what was wanted. 

“It is a poor-looking man who wants to see a 
doctor,” she said, returning to the supper-room. 

“Tell him to go into the office, Thekla,” said Dr. 
Eckhart ; “I will be in there presently.” 

The lamp burned dimly upon the office table, and 
as soon as the doctor entered he turned on more 
light, and gazed upon his visitor in surprise, 
for he was the man who had attacked him in 
the forest ; and about the wound on his cheek he 
had tied a ragged plaid handkerchief. 

The man recognized the doctor at the same time, 
and started from his chair to leave the room ; but 
his strength was not equal to it, and he leaned for 
support against the wall. 

Pity for the poor creature filled Dr. Eckhart’s 
kind heart, and, taking him by the arm, he led him 
to a chair by the light, and examined the wound. 

It had bled freely, and the doctor set about heal- 
ing the injury his own hand had inflicted. 


IIG 


Dr. Echhart’s Boys 

“It was a more powerful blow than I intended,” 
he said. 

The man sat pale and silent while the doctor- 
bathed the place, applied a healing ointment, and 
bound it up with a clean linen cloth, then ringing 
the bell for Thekla, he told her to bring a good, 
substantial supper, with plenty of hot coffee. 

She soon returned with a waiter full, and set it 
upon the table before the stranger, who ate as only 
one can who has suffered from hunger, while the 
doctor sat on the other side of the table and read. 

He noticed the color coming into the poor, pinched 
face, as the warm food and coffee strengthened his 
chilled frame, and was intending to ask him in re- 
gard to his home and family, when the man spoke. 

“I deserve imprisonment for my act this even- 
ing, doctor,” he said, humbly, “and would fare far 
better than if left at liberty ; but spare me for the 
sake of my wife and children.” 

“You need not fear anything of the kind from 
me,” replied Dr. Eckhart. “What do you wish, Er- 
nest?” he continued, as his son came into the office, 
followed by Martin. 

“Father, this boy says his mother coughs all 
night; she cannot sleep for coughing. Will you 
send her some medicine?” 

Before the doctor could answer, Martin had 
caught sight of the poor man and ran up to him. 

^‘Oh, father! what hurt your head?” he asked, 
117 


Dr. EckharVs Boys 


“Your father met a man on the edge of the for- 
est who struck him,” said the doctor; “you boys 
can go back to the library, and I will prepare the 
medicine, and Martin and his father can go home 
together.” 

The boys left the office and the doctor turned to 
his patient. 

“Now, tell me,” he said, in a kind tone, “why 
did you act the part of a robber to-night, and at- 
tack a person who was going peaceably along the 
road to his home?” 

“Because I was in despair,” said the man, as 
tears came to his eyes ; “oh, doctor, believe me, that 
I never did the like before; but my wife is ill. All 
she craves is milk, and I have not a penny in the 
world to buy it. My children are half-starved, and 
I can get no work.” 

“What have you lived on this winter?” 

“I could, until the creek froze, catch fish ; and 
now and then could catch a fawn or a rabbit in a 
snare, but lately I have had no luck. I knew that 
one of the wood-choppers kept his rifle in a hollow 
tree, and I determined to use it to bring down game 
of some kind that my children might have strength- 
ening food. I had seen the head forester go away 
toward Schonan on his sled, and thought he would 
not be back until I had shot something for food, and 
put the rifle back in its place. I hid behind a tree, 
hoping to see a deer going to or from its feeding- 
place. ' 


118 


Dr. Eclcharfs Boys 


“I had waited but a few minutes when a doe 
flew past me. I shot and killed her. '^In my joy, 
I threw the rifle away, and knelt to take pieces 
from it home, and return for more, when I had 
gained strength by eating some of it. But before 
I had cut away one piece, I heard the forester 
whistle for his herdsman ; I sprang up and ran to 
keep from being caught. After running almost to 
the edge of the forest, I stumbled and fell from 
weakness ; and while lying there the thought came 
to me, ‘I and my wife and children must have food 
or we will perish from hunger.’ Just then I heard 
the roll of wheels, and saw you coming. 1 had no 
intention of hurting you ; I only threatened to take 
It from you in the hope that I might frighten you 
into giving it. After I was struck, I knelt on the 
ground and prayed for death. Then the thought of 
my sick wife and hungry children came to me, and 
I arose to my feet, feeling weaker than before from 
loss of blood. I had heard that a doctor near Scho- 
nan was kind to the poor, and I thought I would 
walk here and have my wound dressed, and perhaps 
you would give me some medicine for my wife. I 
came, never thinking I would see in the doctor the 
man I tried to rob.” 

“The blow I gave you shall not be a "misfortune 
to you if I can help it,” replied Dr. Eckhart; “1 
will come to see your sick wife in the morning, 
and will try to get work for you. Keep up a good 


Dr. Echhart’s Boys 


heart — you know the old saying that it is always 
darkest just before daylight. 

“Now, indeed, I begin again to have faith that 
there is a God who cares for us, since he puts such 
men as you upon earth,” said the man, his eyes 
filling again with tears ; “this was certainly the 
darkest hour of my life, but I begin to see the day- 
light.” 

“I am only doing my duty as a Christian should,” 
replied Dr. Eckhart, and I hope and believe that 
you will do yours, and be a law-abiding citizen. 
Meantime, tell me your name.” 

“It is Michael Wegner.” 

“I will give jmu this warm cap, Michael, which 
has tabs to protect the ears from cold ; put it on 
now,” he continued, as the man arose to go. 

“Thank you, thank you !” he said, gratefully ; 
now, Martin and I will go, and tell my wife the 
good news that you will see her to-morow.” 

“Here is medicine for her, and my wife has put 
up a basket of food and a jug of new milk for you 
and Martin to carry home.” 

As soon as they left with many words of grati- 
tude, Dr. Eckhart told his family the whole story, 
and charged them to say nothing outside of the 
home circle of the attack upon him ; and all 
agreed with him that they would keep silent. 

“The poor man is, or was, utterly discouraged, 
and lost confidence in every one, and thought that 
120 


Dr. Eckhai’fs Boys 

God had forgotten him. It is our duty to help him 
up in every way we can. If he has the sympathy 
of his fellow-men, he will regain faith that God 
rules all for good.” 

“Father, you are like the Good Samaritan in the 
Bible,” said Adelheid, in sincere admiration of her 
father’s goodness ; “you bound up the poor man’s 
wounds, and gave him food.” 

“Not quite like him,” laughed Dr. Eckhart, “for 
it was I who made the wound.” 

The next thing to be listened to was an account 
of Richard and Henry’s visit to the head forester’s 
home. And the boys took delight in telling of the 
interesting things they had seen and heard, and of 
the kindness of Herr Bruner and his wife. 

It was a day long to be remembered. 

“I have promised Michael that I would try to get 
work for him,” said the doctor; “I wonder if Herr 
Bruner could not make a place for him as wood- 
chopper or herdsman?” 

“I don’t know what work he has to do, father,” 
said Richard, “but I know that he is kind-hearted, 
and will do what he can if we ask him.” 

‘AYell, we will talk about it in the morning ; per- 
haps we can go to see him at the same time we 
visit the sick woman.” 

The next morning the boys arose, hoping nothing 
would prevent their father from going to Herr 
Bruner’s, and he promised, as soon as his office 
hours were over, to go. 


121 


Dr. EckUart's Boys 


Frau Eckhart had several other garments to add 
to those already sent, and a jug of strengthening 
soup for the whole family. 

Before the office hours were quite over the whole 
family were delighted to see Pastor Bernhard’s 
sleigh drive up to the door, the father, and mother, 
and Mary, and Melanie having come to pay the 
long-promised visit. 

“I could not have come this long distance in a 
carriage,” said Frau Bernhard, as she laid aside 
her wraps ; “but the sleigh glided along so gently, 
and here we are for the whole day.” 

The boys were sincerely - glad to see them, but 
had also a feeling of regret, fearing the 
visit to the forester would be delayed ; but Dr. Eck- 
hart planned that they would not only go, but would 
give variety to the pastor’s visit by taking him 
with them, having no fear but the lady guests 
would be well entertained by Frau Eckhart and her 
daughters. 

An early dinner was acceptable to the travelers, 
and then the doctor’s horse was put to the pastor’s 
sleigh, and the two gentleman, with liichard and 
Henry, drove away. 

They first went to see the sick woman, and the 
boys were glad to see that the strengthening food 
had done them good ; the children looked, and were, 
more comfortable with the warm clothing, and 
Michael, who had been carrying refuse wood from 
122 


Dr. Eckliart's Boys 

the forest all morning, had a good fire in the old 
stove. 

“Herr Kimiier is not at home,” he said, when 
thej' told him they intended calling at his cottage ; 
he went through the forest early this morning, and 
I think he went to town.” 

“We were intending to see him, hoping to get 
employment for you,” said Dr. Eckhart kindly, 
while the boys looked disappointed. 

“I wish you could have seen him,” said Wegner, 
a look of sad disappointment coming into his face. 

“Father, let Henry and me stay to see him ; I am 
sure we can walk home,” said Richard. 

“If Herr Bruner will bring you this far on the 
way, I will walk the rest of the way through the 
forest with you,” said Wegner, eagerly. 

Dr. Eckhart was willing to have them stay, but 
reminded them that they would miss their cousins’ 
visit. 

In their wish to help the Wegners, the boys had 
for a moment lost sight of this ; but the pastor here 
put in a word. “Duty first, pleasure afterwards,” 
he said ; “if the boys can do a service to these peo- 
ple, who so need help, we should not stand in the 
way. They will probably come home before we 
leave for Meadow Valley ; if not, they can come to 
see us when they have another holiday.” 

“Such a look of relief came into the faces jf 

Wegner and his wife, that the doctor saw it was 

123 


Dr. Eckhart’s Boys 


a wise conclusion, and agreed that the Iws should 
go to the cottage and see the forester as soon as he 
came home. 

Pastor Be jhard said a few comforting words to 
the sick wo nan, and offered a prayer for her speedy 
return to health, and for the success of the boys' 
undertaking; then they got in the sleigh and drove 
to the cottage, where the doctor left them, and, ac- 
companied by the pastor, drove to see his other pa- 
tients. 

Frau Bruner welcomed them cordially, but ex- 
cused her appearance, having been busy putting 
feathers in a bed.' 

“It is for a poor woman who lives in a misera- 
ble cabin in the forest,” she explained to the boys. 
“A woman who was gathering sticks in the forest 
told me of her, said she is sick, and is lying upon 
a miserable straw bed. I sent Margaretha to see 
her,' and find that she lived with me before she was 
married to a man named Michael Wegner. She 
was a good, faithful girl ; I had no idea that she 
was living near me, and will go to see her to-mor- 
row, and help her all I can.” 

“Oh, Frau Bruner,” said Richard, “that is just 
what we came here for ; “her poor husband is out 
of work, and we thought Herr Bruner might have 
wood-chopping for him to do.” 

“lie will be home in an hour or so, and we will 
tell him all about it,” replied the good woman ; “and 
124 


Dr. Echhart’s Boys 

if I have any influence with him, and I think I 
have, Wegner shall have work. Here is the sled at 
the door to take the bed and several other things 
down to the cabin ; and Margaretha go^s with them 
to make all comfortable.” 

In about an hour Margaretha returned and told 
of the happiness of Frau Wegner, when she sank 
down upon the soft bed with the clean, white sheets 
and pillow, and all else that went toward a* com- 
fortable resting-place. More than all, her husband 
had promised her the night before, when he came 
home from Dr. Eckhart’s, that he would never 
poach again ; and she could now sleep without the 
dread when he was away that he had been arrested. 

About noon Herr Bruner came home, and the 
boys told him of what their father had hoped to 
do for Wegner, and their wish that employment 
could be given him. 

“I might give him work if I were sure he is 
not the poacher who has been snaring fawns and 
rabbits, and yesterday shot a doe with the wood- 
chopper’s rifle,” replied the forester. 

Richard and Henry made no reply to this ; they 
had promised their father to say nothing about it 
in any way ; the poor man had repented, and prom- 
ised never to poach again, and there would be great 
injustice in telling of his past misdeeds. 

“If you will employ Wegner as wood-chopper, I 
will do my share by engaging his wife to work for 
125 


Dr. Echhart's Boys 

me when she gets well,” said Frau Bruner ; “Mar- 
garetha is going to be married in the early part of 
the new year, and there is no one I would rather 
have as helper than Frau Wegner.” 

“Well, I will send him word that he may com- 
mence work to-morrow ; I had an order to-day for 
many cords of wood, and will need another wood- 
chopper. 

“Oh, please let us stop and tell him on our way 
home,” said Richard, eagerly. 

“Ceitainly, you may. I am intending to send one 
of the men to Schonan this afternoon in the sleigh ; 
he can take you with him, and drive around by the 
cabin to give you the chance to tell Wegner what 
I have said.” 

“Thank you, thank you !” said the boys, grate- 
fully. 

“Now, wife, give us dinner ; I am hungry as a 
hunter, and I want these boys to have a good share 
of that fine rabbit potpie you were making when 
I left this morning. 

It was one of the greatest of pleasures of the 
boys’ lives to bring this good news to the Wegners, 
who almost wept for joy when they heard it. 

They reached home in time to have several hours 
with their uncle and his family, and there was" yet 
another pleasure added to that happy day before 
they left for Meadow Valley. 

“You must give us the pleasure of helping a lit- 
tle in this good cause.” snid Pastor Bernhard, as 
12G 


Dr. Echharfs Boys 

he put a sum of money in the hand of each of the 
boys ; “this is to buy back the furniture which the 
owner of the cottage took for Wegner’s rent.” 

The boys thanked him heartily, and the next 
morning walked to the cabin and gave it to Frau 
Wegner, who was sitting up, and said she felt bet' 
ter than she had for a long time, the strengthening 
food, medicine, and employment for her husband, 
and promise of it for herself, having almost worked 
a cure. 

The beautiful holiday was over, and the boys re- 
turned to Althausen School; and on their visits 
home heard nothing but good of the Wegners. Mar- 
tin walked every day to the village school, where 
Ernest saw him well clothed, healthy, and one of 
the most studious and obedient boys in the school. 

The Christmas holidays came around again, and 
one of the days of the \veek Herr Bruner came to 
take them to pass a day at his cottage. They went 
a little out of the way to call at the cabin where 
the Wegners still lived. 

But what a change ! They found it repaired and 
put in perfect order by Wegner on days given him 
by his kind and generous employer. Within and 
without all was neat and well cared for, wife and 
children well am! happy, and all employed who 
were old enough to work. During the week Pastor 
Bernhard and his family came to pass the day 
at Dr. Eckhart’s, and all were glad to hear such an 
excellent report of the Wegners. 

127 


Dr. EckJiarfs Boys 


“Who would have thought that a blow on the 
cheek would have been such help to Wegner?” said 
Richard ; for Dr. Eckhart had allowed his boys to 
tell their uncle the whole affair the day all went 
to the cabin. 

“All things work together for good to those who 
put their trust in God, my boy,” replied Pastor 
Bernhard ; “our poor friend lost faith for a little 
time under stress of strong temptation, and has 
been forgiven, and, like Job, his last days are bet- 
ter than his first.” 






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A ny of the following Books, 
written or translated by 
Mrs. Mary E. Ireland, 
Washington, D. C., are furnished by 
us to Libraries and individuals at 
a discount of 25% from list prices. 

The Presbyterian Committee 
of Publication, 

Richmond, Va. 

R. E. Magill, Secretary and Treasurer. 

¥ ¥ 

Her First and Only School Friend. United 
Brethren Publishing Co., Dayton, Ohio. 


Illustrated, $ .35 J' 

Christian Beck’s Grandson, Presbyterian 

Committee of Publication, Richmond, V'^a. , 1.00 

What I Told Dorcas. The Story of a rural mis- 
sion. E. P. Dutton & Co. , New York. Ills. , .75 

An Obstinate Maid. George W. Jacobs & 

Co., Philadelphia. Illustrated, ..... 1.25 

Adolph’s Victories. Presbyterian Commit- 
tee of Publication, Richmond, Va., . . . 1.00 

In Days of Abd-el-Kader. David C. Cook 

Co., -Chicago. Illustrated, .25 

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Stolen eor Ransom. United Brethren Pub- 
lishing Co., Dayton, Ohio. Illustrated, . .25 

The School of Luneburg Heath. Pres- 
byterian Committee of Publication, Rich- 
mond, Va., 60 

1'he Young Artists. Western Methodist 

Book Concern, Cincinnati. Illustrated, . .55 

Grandma Elliot’s Farmhouse. With por- 
trait. Presbyterian Committee of Publica- 
tion, Richmond, Va., .85 

Erna Stark. Baptist Publication House, 

Philadelphia, .90 

Red Carl. T. Y. Crowell & Co., New York, 1.00 

Driven Out. Presbyterian Committee of 

Publication, Richmond, Va., 1.00 

Eric’s Vacation. David C. Cook Co., Chic- 
ago, Illustrated, .25 

Betty’s Decision. Lutheran Publishing 

House, Philadelphia, .60 

In Fair Silesia. Presbyterian Committee of 

Publication, Richmond, Va., .60 

The Doctor’s Family. American Tract 

Society, New York. Illustrated, .... .75 

Lenchen’s Brother. Presbyterian Board of 

Publication, Philadelphia, 1.00 

POCTOR Eckhart’s Boys. United Brethren 

Publishing Co., Dayton, Ohio, .25 

The Shepherd’s Family. Presbyterian 

Committee of Publication, Richmond, Va., .60 
The Siberian Exile. Presbyterian Commit- 
tee, of Publication, Richmond, Va., . . . ,60 


Life Work of Pastor Louis Harms. 
With portrait. Lutheran Publishing House, 
Philadelphia, 

1'he Block House on the Shore. Baptist 
Publication House, Philadelphia. Illus- 
trated, 

The First School Year. Presbyterian Com- 
mittee of Publication, Richmond, Va., . . 
Happy Days at Grandfather’s. United 
Brethren Publishing Co., Dayton, Ohio, . 
Timothy and His Friends. New Edition. 

Illustrated. Saalfield Co., Akron, Ohio,. 
Otterbrook’s Blessing. United Brethren 
Publishing Co., Dayton, Ohio. Illustrated. 
A Story of Washington, 

What I Told Dorcas. ” Dainty” edition, 
bound in white and gold. Illustrated. 
E. P. Dutton &c Co., New York, .... 

Christmas and Easter Edition, 

Otterbrook’s Parsonage. Illustrated. United 
Brethren Publishing Co., Dayton, Ohio, . 
Lottie’s Second Year with the Wen- 
DORFS. Illustrated. United Brethren 

Publishing Co., Dayton, Ohio, 

Under The Cherry Blossoms. Ten Japan- 
ese illustrations, 

In Days of Peter the Great. United 
Brethren Publishing Co., Dayton, Ohio, . 
Dorris and Her Mountain Home. Presby- 
terian Committee of Publication , Richmond , 
V^a. Illustrated. Net, 


.60 

1.25 ^ 
.85 ^ 
.35 ^ 

1.00 

.35 

.50 

.50 

.35 

.35 

.25 

.35 

.75 > 








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